


Hunted

by appleblossom2



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 16:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 51,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2628965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appleblossom2/pseuds/appleblossom2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hydra and her father come looking for her, only Grant Ward can protect Skye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> While this story is AU it draws on details presented in season two so there will be some spoilers depending on what I want to take from canon MAoS. This story is in progress and may be through the length of season two.

Hunted  
by Apple Blossom

 **Disclaimer:** _Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D_ belongs to Joss Whedon, Jed Whedon, Stan Lee, ABC, Marvel Television, Mutant Enemy, and anyone else who wants to lay claim to it. 

I am sitting on my bunk across from Skye giving her details on one of the Hydra hideouts that Coulson has uncovered. She is more at ease if I am sitting and tends to stay longer if I stay on task. She is sitting in the white plastic chair right outside of the invisible force field that keeps me confined to my half of the room. She is typing on her tablet which I know is more of a distraction than anything else. Cameras are pointed at us blatantly recording our conversation but I don't care.

"Is that everything?" Skye asks. Her words are still short and clipped when she talks to me but the anger in her eyes is gone, replaced by something more familiar. It's obvious she still cares but I know Skye. She won't let me off so easily but I am wearing her down. She stays a little longer each time she is here. Allows a little small talk from time to time.

"That's it," I answer, knowing our time is growing short. Just as she stands the lights flicker and the invisible grid exposes itself momentarily. Her eyes go wide and she glanced toward the camera and then to me just as the entire base shakes hard and a muffled explosion echoes from above. Skye falls to the floor as the room is plunged into darkness. The grid hisses disappearing completely and I know it is down. The only light is the glow of Skye's tablet and it reflects the fear on her face as she realizes what's going on. She pushes herself up from the floor and looks up as gun shots ring out.

"They're under attack," I say and she jumps as she realizes I am standing beside her. I wrap and arm around her, pulling her close so she can't fight back as I add, "I'm not going to hurt you but I need you not to hurt me either."

"Did you do this?" Skye asks and I hear the fear in her voice. She knows I could kill her in an instant but I hope she also knows I would never hurt her.

"No," I answer as I let her go. She starts up the stairs and I grab her around the arm. "Wait. Don't you hear that?"

Gunfire is ringing out in a rapid staccato as the fight rages on above us.

"I have to help them," she replies, yanking her arm out of my hand.

"Do you have a gun?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"No," she whispers. "But I'm not just going to hide down here while my family is in trouble."

"C'mon," I reply creeping up the stairs knowing she will follow. When I get to the door I slowly turn the handle and push the door slightly peeking out into the hallway. Gun shots and small explosions can still be heard but they are not nearby. I have no idea which way to go and the building is pitch black as I step out into the walkway, reaching for Skye's hand and pulling her close to me. "Which way?"

"Left," she answers, gripping my hand tightly. Together we creep down the hall, my free hand trailing along the wall to keep track of any unknown door openings. We are getting closer to the violence when I hear voices approaching.

"Go back," I tell her and we quickly start inching our way back toward the door we just came out of.

"Where's the girl?" an unseen voice asks.

"We haven't found her yet," another answers. "My guys are still fighting the Cavalry. We'll find her soon."

Skye stops, realizing they are talking about her. I squeeze her hand and whisper, "We need to get out of here. Where's the exit?"

"The way we were headed," Skye answers.

"What's this way?"

"Some offices. They aren't used," she replies.

"Let's go," I tell her, pulling her along a little faster as footsteps approach. If they have night vision gear on they will easily spot us. My hand grazes against a doorknob and I stop, pulling it open. Skye is right. The room is unused with only a desk and chair in it but there is enough light coming through the window that we can make them out in the unlit room. Quickly I pull her inside and close the door, turning the tiny lock on the knob. It won't keep anyone out for long but at least we will know when we are out of time. I let go of her hand and look around the room trying to figure out our next move. The desk is heavy and could probably block the door but moving it will alert them to our presence.

"Do you think they were talking about me?" Skye whispers. She still stands close to me and I hear the concern in her voice.

"Yes," I answer. I promised never to lie to her again and if they are battling May then it has to be Skye they are after. Crossing the room I open the blinds and take note of where we are. My fingers release the lock and a moment later I carefully push the window up, wincing as it squeaks in protest.

"I can't leave May behind," Skye protests as I motion for her to come on.

"May can take care of herself," I tell her as I glance out the window. It looks out over an alley with a dumpster underneath that will be perfect to help us escape. There is even an older model vehicle parked in a lot across the way. "You're going now."

Carefully I help her out the window, holding her arms and lowering her down to the dumpster lid where she drops with a thud. It hasn't escaped my notice that the gunfire has ended and someone is rattling the locked door standing between us and freedom. I push myself out the window and drop beside her before jumping to the asphalt.

"We're out of time," I tell her as she hops into my arms and we rush across the pavement to the car. I pull the handle and am thrilled when it opens, especially once a face appears at the window of the building we've just abandoned.

"There she is!"

A shot rings out as I yell at her, "Get in the car!"

Skye follows my direction as I quickly hot wire the car and throw the shifter into gear, the tires squealing as we peel out of the parking lot. I head through the streets noticing the car weaving through traffic behind us.

"We've been made," I tell her and glance her way momentarily as she turns to look behind us. I wish I had a weapon. Something to protect her. But for now I just try to evade them, darting lane to lane, making quick turns, but all the sudden Skye is screaming and the front of the car is crumpling as we are sideswiped by a bus. For a moment I sit in the driver's seat stunned but I know we can't wait much longer before those men are upon us. Popping my seat belt off I open the door before glancing toward Skye. A small trickle of blood trails down her face and she is definitely in shock by the accident but I need her to get moving. I unsnap her seat belt and climb out my side before turning back to her. The passenger side door is smashed in and blocked by the bus and people are starting to gather around the accident.

"C'mon," I motion to her and wait as she scrambles over the shifter and the driver's seat, before landing on two feet in front of me. I look her over and ask, "Are you okay?"

She nods and I grab her hand, dragging her down an alley as the vehicle following us approaches the intersection.

"Here," I say, stopping her as I reach for the fire escape ladder, yanking it down hard. "Climb up."

Skye goes first and I hurry behind her, pulling the ladder back up before following her up several flights. We hear the car at the same time and stop, dropping to metal floor of each flight we are on. At least she is above me, I think to myself. If anything happens they are going to have to go through me first. The vehicle slows and the passenger gets out peeking into the dumpster before looking around. I hold my breath as he looks up but he doesn't seem to see us and a moment later he climbs back in and the car drives away slowly. I wait until I am sure they are not coming back and crawl up the ladder to the next level, sitting beside her.

"What are we going to do?" Skye asks as she places her hand to her head. The cut is drying slowly but she looks a little shaken up and blood had stained her shirt. I know I don't look much better between my Unabomber beard and prison like clothes we are going to stand out like sore thumbs. I stand up and peek into the window of the apartment in front of us. The furnishings make it clear that this apartment belongs to women only so I head up one more flight. This one is bare bones with dirty dishes in the sink and an empty milk carton left on the counter. The lights are off and it looks like no one is home so I motion to Skye to come up as I break the window as quietly as possible. When no one comes to see what the commotion is I unlock the window and shove it upward, careful not to cut myself. I help Skye in telling her not to touch anything as I take a moment to wipe down the latch. Luck is with me as we enter the sparse living room with the tattered couch and empty pizza boxes on the beat up old coffee table. In the corner is a laundry basket with neatly folded clothes. I reach for a pair of jeans and surprisingly they seem like they will fit so I slip out of the drawstring pants I am wearing as Skye looks away. They're a little loose but they will stay up with the belt I see lying on the floor so I quickly slide the leather through the loops and tighten it around my waist. A plain blue shirt is next on the pile and I pull that on over the one I am wearing before running my hand down through the clothes until I find a button down shirt. This one is red plaid and I hand it to Skye to put on, covering the blood stained shirt she's wearing. Wrapping the cloth of my old drawstring pants around my hand I open the door and together we walk slowly down the stairs. She is quiet and I know she is worried about May and the others. When we get out onto the street I see we aren't far from a Metro station so I take her hand and lead her toward it.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"Union Station," I tell her. She doesn't argue or try to disagree and I worry that maybe Skye is hurt and just not letting on. I take a good look at her as we walk toward the train and she seems okay so for now I let it go. It doesn't take very long for us to get to the train and soon we are side by side as the Metro rushes toward downtown. Her hand stays in mine and I squeeze it reassuringly but she doesn't look at me.

We arrive at Union Station and follow the throng of people exiting the train until we come to a row of lockers. Together we walk slowly as I look over the numbers until I find the right one. I press in my access code and the door opens revealing a bag of goodies. Inside I know are weapons, fake IDs, and cash and we need all of that right now.

"Let's get something to eat," I say and she looks at me as if I have two heads. "Aren't you hungry?"

Skye shakes her head but follows me into the food court where we grab burgers, fries, and sodas, settling into plastic chairs as travelers mill around us, a brief stop in whatever their final destination is.

"We need to catch a bus out of town," I tell her between bites. "Once we're safe you can call Coulson or May and let them know you're okay."

I can see she is trying to decide if I am telling the truth or not and so far she seems to believe me but I also know Skye is waiting for something to go wrong. She glances around nervously and I know she wants to get off the streets and away from strangers until we know what the situation is.

"Let's go," I say, seeing her discomfort. We walk to the electronic ticket machine and see what options are available. "We can take a bus to New York."

"New York?" Skye asks

"Yeah," I answer. "I have a place we can hole up for a bit. Get outta sight and see if we can figure out what's going on."

I pull one of my pre-paid credit cards from the wallet inside my bag and select two tickets. Once we have them I reach for her hand and we head for the bus. She's getting more comfortable with me and I'm glad of it. I'll do everything in my power to protect her and I hope she knows it. When we get on the bus I let her have the window seat and settle in next to her, dropping my bag on the floor in front of me. She is tense and her eyes scan the crowd of people heading toward the other buses but no one seems to look twice at us. She relaxes once the bus pulls away from the station and as the sky darkens her eyes close and soon I can tell she is sleeping. Her head lists slightly and lands on my shoulder waking her up.

"You're fine," I whisper. "Get some rest."

***

Hours later we arrive at the Port Authority bus terminal in New York City and a few minutes later I hand my bag off to Skye as we head for yet another locker and another stash of money, weapons, and the key to the safe house I have here. We head out onto the street and I hail a cab, letting Skye in first and sliding in beside her. I give the driver the address and smile as Skye takes in the scenery.

"Never been to New York before?" I ask her.

She shakes her head no so I let her be. When we arrive at our destination I hand some cash over to the driver and lead Skye under the green canopy toward the brick building in front of us. The outside is unassuming but the lobby is beautiful with Italian marble floors and black granite tile covering the walls. Skye looks around in surprise, following me toward the elevator where I press the button for the 4th floor.

"It's a little small," I tell her as I open the door and let her in. The main living area is long and narrow with Brazilian hardwood covering the floor and a small dining room table with two seats to the left of the door and a long sofa on the wall nearest the windows. A television sits across from it with a few DVDs laying on the entertainment center. Tiny doors open into the small but tastefully decorated galley kitchen and another doorway leads to the only bedroom and bathroom.

"It's nice," Skye says as she looks around. "I need to call May."

I nod and pull a cell phone from one of the bags. "Its untraceable."

Skye takes the phone from me and dials a number, pushing a button on the keypad afterwards so that I can hear both sides of the conversation. I don't even try to hide my surprise and she looks away from me, down at the ringing phone.

"Hello?" May's voice is clearly coming through the speaker.

"Hi," Skye answers, relief filling her face.

"Skye," May replies. "Are you using Rising Tide connections to contact me?"

I watch as Skye's face falls, tears abruptly filling her eyes as she answers, "Yes... but don't worry. It's untraceable."

"Where are you?" May asks and I hold my breath waiting for Skye to answer. Something is obviously not right here.

I watch as Skye looks around, her eyes settling on a package of gum that's probably been here forever. She motions for me to hand it to her as she replies, "D.C. I didn't exactly have a chance to grab my wallet. Sorry I left you behind."

"It's no problem," May tells her. "Do you have an address? I'll come pick you up."

Skye opens the gum and crinkles the wrapper near the phone. "It's a diner near..."

I watch as she twirls the wrapper harder, making sure the noise is clearly heard on the other end. "May? Are you still there? May?"

She jabs her finger down on the end call button and tosses the wrapper onto the counter angrily. "Dammit."

"She's been compromised?" I ask, placing a hand on Skye's shoulder. Her eyes meet mine and she nods, a tear escaping and trailing down her cheek. Carefully I brush it away before pulling her into a hug. "It's going to be okay."

Skye nods and asks, "What do you think they want with me?"

Taking her hand I lead her to the sofa and we sit facing each other. I tell her everything I know. Everything Raina said about Skye's DNA. About her parents being the monsters that killed all of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents when she was just a baby. That there is a good possibility that her father is alive and now knows she is too. She looks exhausted and overwhelmed by the time I am finished and I feel terrible that I am the one who had to tell her everything.

"We'll figure it out," I tell her as she leans her head back against the sofa, closing her eyes in frustration. "Go get some rest."

"There's only one bed," Skye says warily.

"The couch is comfortable," I say kicking off my shoes. "We'll get supplies tomorrow and make a plan."

She looks at me dubiously until I add, "I'll get you a laptop. It will be just like old times."

Skye smiles in spite of herself and gets to her feet, heading for the bedroom. She pauses in the doorway and says, "Thanks."

I nod and she is gone. I doubt I will sleep much tonight but I know I need to. I get up and check the door, confirming that the deadbolt is turned before going to the window and peeking through the blinds. The streets are quieting down in Queens and I know we are safe for tonight.

***


	2. Chapter 2

Sunlight wakes me as it peeks through the blinds announcing the beginning of a brand new day. It's the first time in months that I haven't woken up inside a prison and if it wasn't for someone hunting for Skye I might enjoy it more. The thought of her rouses me from the couch and I stretch, working the kinks out of my back as I stand. I wander into the small hallway separating the bedroom and bathroom and see that she is still asleep, the covers hiding everything but the top of her head. The cut on her forehead is just visible between the strands of her bangs but the rest of her can't be seen. I would love to let her rest longer, knowing that after everything she went through yesterday and everything I've told her, Skye has to be both physically and emotionally exhausted. My thoughts drift back to Raina's words. About evolution and how Skye is the key to all of that. How darkness lives inside of her and some day it will reveal itself. I can't wrap my brain around how any of that can possibly be true. Skye is one of the most compassionate, caring people I've ever met. She sees things in people that everyone else overlooks.

I head into the bathroom and start the shower waiting for the water to warm up as I look myself over critically in the mirror. The bruises on the side of my face have faded finally but the beard is seriously bushy so I decide to trim it at least. The water is warm now so I get in and quickly wash my hair enjoying the peppery spray as it hits my bare back. I could stand there forever but know I need to get moving so I turn off the water and dry myself, wrapping the large white towel around my waist before scrutinizing my face once again. I keep a trimmer in the cabinet under the sink so I spend a few minutes cleaning up the beard and when I open the door I see Skye is awake, sitting up in the bed, her dark hair disheveled. She starts to smile and then seems to remember who I am and everything I've done and stops, turning her attention to the sheets around her.

"Sorry if I woke you," I tell her as I go through my dresser drawers grabbing some clothes before I duck back into the bathroom. A moment later I return and look through my drawers again until I find a shirt that will fit her. "We'll go shopping and get you some things to wear. We need to get supplies as well."

"Thanks," Skye says as she takes the offered shirt and heads into the bathroom. I head back to the living room and turn on the television, putting it on the news channel until she finally makes an appearance. I gather up some cash and a few pre-paid credit cards and slip them in my wallet before we head out, looking for a place to get breakfast.

We settle into a booth in a small diner around the corner from the apartment and order breakfast. Pancakes, eggs and bacon for me and an English muffin and fruit for Skye.

"You should eat more," I say to her between bites.

She looks around before saying, "I'm too nervous."

"We're safe here," I tell her, reaching across the table and placing my hand over hers. She looks up and I see the fear in her eyes. "I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."

She nods but I can see that she is very unsettled since hearing the news that her own parents may have been responsible for the deaths of an entire village of people. She looks out the window, people watching and taking in the hustle and bustle of New York City life. I can tell that something catches her interest and my eyes follow her gaze to a vintage clothing shop.

"We can go to a department store," I tell her, wondering if she is worried about money.

"No that's okay," Skye answers and I see she is finally smiling a little. "That's my favorite kind of shop right there."

I realize that she's probably always been on a tight budget when it comes to buying clothes for herself and I'm about to tell her that I don't care how much she spends but she's suddenly eating more and I know she's a little distracted from our current predicament so I let it go. When we're done with breakfast we head across the street and into the little boutique. Skye pokes through the racks, pulling out two pairs of jeans before moving on to a rack of shirts.

"You need more than that," I tell her. "Just in case."

"I don't want to spend all of your money," Skye objects quietly.

"Don't worry about it," I answer. "It's what it is for."

She nods finally and selects several more items before taking them into the dressing room. When she returns she picks out a small bag and wallet with a matching backpack before we take it all to the counter. After everything is paid for and bagged up we are back in the street walking toward the corner when I see a lingerie store. I hand her some money and say, "I'll wait outside."

"What? Grant Ward doesn't want to check out ladies under things?" She is smiling for a moment, clearly joking with me like she used to until she remembers that we aren't friends anymore. Her face grows serious as she takes the money from me and says, "I won't be long."

She disappears inside and I find a bench, sitting with her packages while she shops. That smile is going to haunt me, I'm sure of it. For a moment it was like old times and there is nothing I want more than to rewind back to when Skye used to look at me like that all the time. Knowing I still need to keep vigilant I try to forget about it, glancing around the neighborhood for any signs of suspicious activity.

"I'm ready," Skye says as she appears with a little pink bag in her hand.

"Let's drop this stuff off and then we can find an electronics store and get you a laptop so you can work your magic and figure out what's going on."

She nods and we head back to my place in silence. When I glance at her from time to time I see her face is furrowed with worry and there is nothing more that I want to do right now than take her hand, reassure her that everything is going to be okay, but I worry that she will pull away from me so I leave her be. When we get to my apartment she changes quickly and we head out again. This time I hail a cab and the driver takes us to a big box electronics store in Flushing and we wander past all of the videos and cell phones to the computer section. There must be forty choices in laptops and I see that Skye is in her element. She goes from brand to brand reading the specifications and looking over the prices.

"Which one is the best?" I ask her as she lingers at one of the more expensive laptops.

"This one," Skye tells me. "But I don't need it. There's one over here that will work just fine."

I nod in agreement. It would be just fine but she deserves better than that. "We're getting this one."

"You're spending too much money," Skye says.

"Don't worry about it," I answer as I motion for a salesman. A few minutes later Skye picks out the other things she needs and we are back in the cab headed home. A stop at the local grocery store completes our errands for the day and as I make us some lunch Skye sets up her computer.

"Thanks," she says when I bring her a sandwich with chips and a soda. 

"How's it going?" I ask as I settle in beside her, taking a bite of my own sandwich. This seems so domestic and for a moment I wonder what it would be like if we both just lived normal lives. 

"Okay," she answers before taking a sip of her soda. "I've managed to access the S.H.I.E.L.D. network through the back door I added awhile ago. I'd like to send a secure message to Coulson. Can I give him the number of one of these phones?"

"Sure," I answer and get up to pull one of them out of a nearby bag, handing it to her. The phone number is taped to the back of it so she takes a break from her lunch to key the data into the computer before closing the laptop and turning her attention back to her food.

***

It's late and we are both dozing off on the sofa when the cell phone in Skye's hand rings.

"Hello?" she says when she answers it. For a moment anxiety is clearly etched across her forehead as she listens to the person on the end but quickly it fades into relief and instinctively I know it is Coulson. The two of them have a bond that became clear almost immediately, even before the man moved heaven and earth to save her when Garrett had her shot. Guilt still washes over me every time I think of it and when he was alive we had a lot of arguments over it. I shake my head to clear the image of her dying in that basement, blood everywhere, and listen as she talks to my former boss.

"Yes," she answers. "I'm here with him now."

Her eyes meet mine as she pulls the phone away from her ear and presses the speaker button. "Go ahead."

"The Playground is compromised. Don't go back there no matter what," Coulson tell us. "I'm working on getting another location but so far we're in the wind."

"Where's May?" Skye asks, concerned for her new supervising officer.

"They're keeping her at the Playground for now. Hunter and I are working on a plan to get her out."

"I have to go back then," Skye replies. "It's me they want."

"No way," I tell her, my head shaking side to side emphasizing what a truly bad idea this is.

At the same time Coulson says, "Absolutely not. You are under orders to stay as far away from there as possible."

Skye shakes her head, anger reflecting in her eyes and I want to comfort her but know that nothing I say will make a difference.

"Ward," Coulson calls out. "Take me off speaker."

I do and Skye gets up and walks away, her posture tense with frustration. "Yes sir?"

"I need you to keep her safe and make sure she doesn't do anything stupid," Coulson says, pausing before adding, "I don't trust you and if anything happens to her because of you I will make what will be the rest of your very short life extremely miserable. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," I answer, not taking his words to heart. He has every reason not to have any faith in me and I know this is my chance to start earning it back. "I'll take good care of her."

"Don't stay in any one place too long," Coulson orders. "We don't have much information on who these people are or why they want Skye but they seem willing to go to great lengths to get her."

We sit in silence for a moment before I finally decide to tell Coulson everything I know. He listens quietly and when I mention Raina's name he sighs in frustration.

"I'll see what I can find out on this end," he tells me. "Let me talk to Skye."

"She's gone in the other room and shut the door," I tell him.

He sighs again and says, "Tell her to contact me through the same channels in three days. I'll have more information and hopefully have May back then as well."

"Copy that," I answer and the phone goes dead in my hand. Getting up I head to the bedroom and knock once before turning the handle and opening the door. Skye is on the bed, her laptop in front of her as she types away.

"What are you doing?" I ask as I approach, sliding onto the other side of the bed. 

"There's gotta be a way to help," she says, her eyes never looking up from the screen.

"Coulson said no," I tell her and she stops typing, her eyes finally meeting mine. Tears glisten in them and I have to resist the urge to pull her close.

"They have her because of me," she snaps as one lone tear escapes and trails instantly down her cheek. "I can't just sit back and let them hurt her."

"May can take care of herself," I reassure her. "And Coulson won't leave her behind."

She looks frustrated and closes the laptop in resignation. I can't help myself as I reach for the laptop and lay it on the night stand before pulling her close to me. When she lays her head on my shoulder I wrap my arms around her and just hold her tight. After awhile her breathing starts to slow and I know she is asleep. I know I should go back to the living room, make my bed on the couch and leave her be, but she is so comfortable and I've missed her so much, that I've decided that for better or worse I'm not leaving her side. I press my lips to her forehead before closing my eyes and soon I'm falling asleep beside her.

***


	3. Chapter 3

A noise of some kind wakes me from a dream and I open my eyes, rolling toward her only to realize I am alone in the bed. Sunlight is peeking through the semi-closed blinds and I sit up, suddenly worried that she's gone. Glancing to my left I see her laptop is missing and my heart pounds furiously as I throw back the blanket and head out into the tiny living room/ dining room of my apartment. She is not there either.

"Skye!" I call out, glancing back to the empty bathroom just in case.

"Yes?" I turn in relief as she comes out of the kitchen, a spatula in her hand.

"Don't do that again," I say as I head toward her wanting to hug her close.

"Make pancakes?" she asks, and I can't tell if she is playing with me or not. I watch as she heads back to the kitchen, flipping the pancakes and checking the bacon. Coffee is brewing in the pot and she has bread in the toaster. Her laptop is open on the counter and I see she has some kind of program running.

"What are you doing?"

"Making breakfast," Skye answers giving me a don't be stupid look.

"With the laptop," I clarify. She looks away sheepishly as if she has been caught doing something she shouldn't and reaches for the handle on one of the cabinets, opening it and pulling down plates before opening another and getting out coffee mugs and small glasses.

"Do you want orange juice too?" she asks, clearly avoiding my question.

"Skye," I say, my voice colder than I mean for it to be. "Coulson said leave it alone."

She looks up and glares at me before scooping the pancakes onto a plate and adding bacon to another. "Take these to the table."

I sigh, realizing we are at an impasse and do as she asks. A moment later she brings out syrup and butter and I go back in for the silverware. She pours coffee and again I'm struck by how normal all of this feels when it is anything but as I settle in beside her and stab a pancake with my fork, dropping it on my plate.

"This looks good," I say as I butter toast and select a few pieces of bacon. "Who knew hactivists could cook."

"Funny," Skye replies as she takes a bite of her homemade goodness. We eat in companionable silence until she asks, "What's the plan for today?"

"We need to get you some new identification and then start planning where we should go next," I tell her.

"Go?" she asks. "I thought we were staying here."

"Not for long," I tell her. "Coulson thinks we should keep moving."

"New York's a big city. We'd be practically invisible here."

"With the exception of the cameras all over the city," I say, looking pointedly at her. "And to think... I learned this from you."

Skye gives me a look and turns her attention back to her breakfast. I watch her for a minute before adding, "I know what you're trying to do."

"Oh? And just what am I trying to do, Mr. Know-it-all?" Her voice reflects her anger and I know I am on thin ice with her but I don't care.

I wait a moment until she finally looks up at me again and I see the anguish on her face. "You're trying to keep us within a day's distance of D.C. because you are bound and determined not to obey Coulson and stay away from where they are holding May. Am I right?"

"You don't understand," she snaps, tears springing to her eyes unexpectedly as she pushes her chair away from the table and grabs her plate, storming into the kitchen.

"I understand more than you know," I whisper, taking a moment to wipe my face with a napkin before following her into the kitchen. She is standing at the sink, the dish still in her hand as she stares blankly at the wall in front of her. I don't even care anymore about trying to keep my distance as I place my hand gently on her shoulder. "Skye, please give Coulson time to work it out. If he doesn't then we'll go get her."

She looks up at me in surprise. "Why would you want to do that?"

Tears are streaming down her face as she looks at me completely confused by the thought that I would willingly go against Coulson's orders to rescue a woman who beat me soundly only months ago. I can't help it as I reach out and wipe the river of tears away from her cheek. There is only a simple answer and her eyes widen when I say, "For you."

She stands there dumbstruck at my confession as I slowly trail my thumb across her cheek. Her eyes are on my lips and I think about it for a long moment. It would be so simple to lower my head, press my lips to hers, take her back to the bedroom, but I can't. I owe her too much so I smile and say, "I'll clean up. Why don't you go take a shower."

My words break the spell that I have over her and she blinks hard, realizing that I am letting the moment go. If she is disappointed I can't tell as she asks, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I answer. "We still need to get you a new ID."

"How are we going to do that?" Skye asks me as she steps back, giving us both room to breathe.

"I know a guy," I tell her as I turn my attention to the dishes in the sink, letting the soapy water fill up the basin.

She laughs as she heads out of the room. "Of course you do."

***

We take the train into Manhattan and walk together on the busy sidewalk until I see the store I'm looking for. As I reach for the handle Skye asks, "This is it?"

"Yep," I answer as we walk into the upscale jewelry store. Everything is locked under glass and glitters temptingly at the few customers looking around. Skye and I walk straight to the back and the jeweler looks up, anxious to be of assistance.

"I'm looking for Ved," I tell him.

He looks at me and says, "You want a custom piece?"

I nod and he gets up, motioning for us to follow him into the back. I grab Skye's hand and we head into the back room and down the stairs and into a dark basement. Skye's hand tightens around mine nervously and I squeeze hers back in reassurance. The man knocks on a door and opens it, motioning us inside.

"You want a custom order?" the man behind the desk asks.

"Yes," I tell him and pull a large amount of folded up cash out of my jacket. "For my wife."

"You've been here before?"

I nod and say, "We want the deluxe package."

He looks at me expectantly so I drop the money on the table before him. Ved smiles, one hand reaching out to snatch it up before turning to his computer. He looks at Skye several times as he keys in data and then stares at her some more before finally clicking the mouse beside him. When he gets up he says, "Follow me."

I nod at Skye in reassurance and we follow him into another small room with a camera and several backdrops.

"Stand there," he says and she does, waiting as he takes several photographs.

"Step over here." Ved points to another backdrop. "Do you have a hair tie?"

"What?" Skye asks in surprise.

"Most people don't get all of their IDs on the same day. I need you to look different." He walks over to a cabinet and pulls out a package of rubber bands and hands it to her. "They're new."

Skye nods and carefully pulls her hair back before accepting the blazer he hands her. She stands on the other backdrop and he takes a few more photos. "Everything will be ready in thirty minutes."

***

We are back on the street again, Skye's brand new identification in her purse. She smiles as she says, "At least it's not Mary Sue Poots."

I don't understand the reference but she seems happy and doesn't object when I reach for her hand again. It is late afternoon so I point to a little Italian restaurant and she nods so we head inside.

"This is nice," Skye says as we sit at a two person booth taking in the ambience and the few other diners at this time of day. We've already ordered and the waiter has placed a basket of hot bread on the table along with some herbs and oil to dip it into.

"Yes it is," I answer. From our vantage point we can easily see all the people on the busy New York street and I have a good spot to see the door, just in case. I'm anxious to get out of the city. There are too many people and any one of them could be a problem. As I reach for another piece of bread I ask her, "Is there any place you want to go?"

She looks at me knowingly and I smile as I add, "Except D.C."

She shakes her head no. "You're probably better at this than I am."

"At being on the run?" I ask. "Not really. But there are lots of times when I've been undercover that I've needed to make a quick getaway and be someone else."

Skye frowns at my words and I realize what I've said. The waiter's timing is perfect and he brings our food before I can say anything more. We eat in silence, Skye looking out the window mostly as I watch the door. We are almost finished when I see him. He's at the bar, sitting with his back toward us, but he's clearly watching us in the mirror. Just as I'm about to say something Skye says, "There's a guy on a bench across the street. He's let several buses go by and he's been staring intently at the door to the restaurant."

"We've been made," I tell her and her eyes go wide as she starts to get up, ready to flee. "Wait. We need to play this cool."

I watch as she sits back down, her hands shaking slightly. The waiter sees we are done and asks if we want dessert. When I decline politely he leaves to get the check.

"What are we going to do?" Skye asks as she looks down at the black bracelet she's been wearing since we've been on the run. Pressing a button lights it up and numbers appear on the surface.

"A pulse monitor?" I ask, intrigued.

"May asked me to wear it," she tells me as the numbers fade away.

"Try to calm down," I say, having seen the results. Her heart is working overtime and now I'm more worried about her than anything else. "We are going to get out of here."

She nods and the waiter brings back our check. I glance at it and at first I think about just dropping a hundred dollar bill in there to get her out of here faster but I don't want to do anything to make us memorable so I place enough money plus a decent amount for tip inside and reach for her hand. As I do her eyes meet mine and I notice for the first time that her pupils are large and unfocused.

"Skye?" I say quietly.

"Yes?" She answers and at least I know she is still with me.

"Are you ready?"

Glass shatters, startling us both and my attention turns toward the table next to us. There is no one sitting there but the table hasn't been bussed yet so the leaking remnants of ice creep slowly around the glass shards and past the plates, dripping slowly onto the floor.

"Whoa," the waiter says, glancing at us as he walks by. "I've never seen that before."

I nod, grabbing Skye's hand gently. She seems distracted and confused by what is going on so I help her to her feet and we walk out past the guy at the bar.

"Are you okay?" I ask her once we are on the street. The man across the street stands up and folds a newspaper and I know I should be paying more attention to him and his partner, but I've never seen Skye like this before.

"I'm fine," she whispers, checking her pulse monitor again. I glance at it with her and see the number seventy which is way lower than it had just been inside the restaurant. "How are we going to ditch these guys?"

"Like this," I answer, raising a hand and hailing a cab.

"Really?" Skye asks as the yellow taxi pulls over and I open the door for her. "This is your big plan?"

I roll my eyes at her and say, "Get in."

Skye does as I ask and slides over so I can get in beside her. After giving the driver an address I glance in the rear view mirror and see the guy from the bar joining Newspaper Man who is now on his cell phone. Bar Man flags down a taxi but we are already pulling away.

"Can you take a scenic route?" I ask the driver, draping my arm around Skye and turning my body slightly toward her so I can casually look out the back window. "My girlfriend has never been to the Big Apple before."

"Sure sure," he says and turns, blending into a sea of yellow cabs. As he drives around he points out different sights of interest. To her credit, Skye seems interested in everything the cab driver points out, asking him questions from time to time before we finally get to our destination, Times Square.

I pay the driver and as we get out I see Skye looking around, impressed by the skyscrapers and neon. It's the sheer number of people and plethora of other yellow cabs that I am happy to see as we thread our way through the crowd. The sun is setting and a chill is in the air so I pull Skye into the nearest tourist apparel store and a few minutes later we exit with hoodie sweatshirts on. Mine is black and Skye's is dark blue and they will help us disappear into the crowd even more as night falls. Together we walk along the street, acting like tourists without a care in the world, until we find a frozen yogurt shop. Neither of us really want any but we need to get off the street and see if we are still being followed. The place is busy but as we stand in line to pay I keep my eyes on the door. A table opens up in the back so we grab it and I lean back in my chair, talking to Skye while watching her back.

"Do you think we lost them?" she asks.

"Maybe," I answer but then realize I've spoken too soon. Newspaper Man walks by the window and I sigh in frustration. If he knows we are in here I can't tell, but at the very least we aren't safe out in the open.

"They're here?" Skye looks tired, as if all of this has simply worn her out. Her skin is pale and her eyes weary and I really wish there was something I could do to get her someplace safe right now. My mind spins through various scenarios until I finally notice the little hall just past our table that leads toward the bathrooms.

"Is there another doorway down there. Besides the ones to the restrooms?"

She leans to the left while I watch the front of the store as best as I can. A large group of kids just came in and even though they are doing a good job of giving us cover, they are making it hard to see if we've been spotted. Finally Skye says, "It looks like it."

"Let's go," I say. Together we get up and walk toward the back. I motion to her to pull her hood up and I do the same. At the end of the hall is a door to the back room of the store. It is open and a few employees are busy getting frozen yogurt ready to refill the machines. Past them is a door to the outside. Luck is on our side as someone from the front line calls to the employees and the door is left unattended. Skye follow my lead and we are soon out in the alley, heading away from the store. I am not comfortable with the seclusion and lack of people to cover us so I hurry her along until we are back in the crowd again. I glance toward Skye as we walk knowing I need to get her home soon even if I have to eliminate the threat to do it. We head straight to the closest subway station and hop on one, not paying any attention to where it is headed. We've taken the last car and sit as far back as possible. If anyone is following us I can't tell. We ride for several stops before finally getting off and climbing the stairs back to street level. A stream of taxis are driving by and I flag another one down and give them an address close to my apartment. We ride in silence, me looking behind at the traffic and seeing nothing; Skye staring quietly out the window. When we get where we are going it is much quieter and clear that we are alone. The walk to the apartment is uneventful and when we finally get there I pull out the gun I've been hiding in my waistband as we approach the door. Skye does the same, taking hers from her purse and I unlock the door quietly. We spend a few minutes clearing the apartment and when we are satisfied that everything is fine I lock the door and she drops tiredly onto the couch.

"You need to get some sleep," I say, laying my hand on her leg. She looks up, nodding and I am more than a little concerned about her. The circles under her eyes are getting darker and her skin is pale. Placing the back of my hand against her forehead I ask, "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm just tired," Skye answers but her words, or maybe her voice, sounds off.

She doesn't feel warm to the touch so reluctantly I pull my hand away from her and say, "Go to bed."

"You too," she says to me so I get up and check the door making sure it is locked securely before putting on the alarm system and finally following her into the bedroom. She's already changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and is pulling down the blankets when I walk in.

"I'm just going to get changed," I say as I open a drawer.

"You can sleep in here," Skye tells me as she slides under the covers.

"Okay," I answer, not wanting to make a big deal of it. I go into the bathroom and change and then climb in beside her and turn off the lamp.

She tosses and turns for a few minutes and then is still so I close my eyes and a few minutes later I'm asleep.

***

It's still dark when I roll over and find her missing from the bed. If she keeps this up she's definitely going to give me heart failure. As I open the bedroom door I see the television is on, the sound down as she lounges on the sofa.

"Skye," I say, frowning as I get closer to her. She looks completely exhausted. "You should be sleeping."

"I can't," she replies.

I settle in beside her and wrap an arm around her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Skye shrugs and I wonder if she just doesn't want to talk about it or if maybe she really doesn't know. The idea of her father looking for her, hunting her down, maybe willing to kill people to find her, has to be unnerving. Finally she asks, "Do you think they will find us here?"

I want to lie. To try to protect her. But I made her a promise all those weeks ago and I intend to keep it. "I don't know."

"When are we leaving?" Skye asks me and I see the worry on her face.

"Now," I answer making the decision as I stare at her. Getting her out of town sounds like a great idea and a plan forms in my head as I pull her to her feet. "Let's get packed."

I call a cab and it only takes a few minutes to gather up what we need. Together we head to the elevator, my hand on the gun in my waist band just in case, but at this time of night all is quiet in and out of the apartment. The taxi arrives and I hurry Skye into it, asking the driver to take us to the JFK airport. As the vehicle pulls away from the curb I glance around, wondering if there is any way to keep these people from finding us. Skye lays her head against my shoulder and I hope I can keep her safe.

***


	4. Chapter 4

"Are we taking a plane," Skye asks after we get out of the taxi.

We are at the JFK airport so her question makes sense but I shake my head as I lead her inside and we head toward a row of lockers. "I need to get some more cash and drop off the key to the apartment."

She nods, following beside me and carrying one of our bags. I open the locker and pull out another bag. Motioning to her to hand me the bag she is holding I slip some of the cash from the stored bag into the other and then grab a new set of keys from it and drop the apartment keys inside before shoving everything back inside once more.

"What are those keys for?" Skye asks as we head back toward the taxis again.

"A car," I tell her. "Cabs to nowhere get a little expensive."

She smiles tiredly and we hail our last taxi to the storage unit where I lead her to a garage door holding my car. I keep a battery charger inside and pop the hood, hooking the cables to the battery while Skye places our bags in the trunk. A few minutes later the car is starting and we are on our way. The sun is starting to peek over the horizon in the rear view mirror as I drive through the streets until we get to interstate 80. My plan isn't too solid after this but for now we are just going to head west for awhile. As we leave the city behind, Skye's eyes droop and close, the drone of the highway finally doing what nothing else could.

I glance in the rear view mirror often but no one is following us so I relax a little, driving until the gas tank is almost empty. When I pull up to the pump and stop the car I glance over to see Skye is still sleeping, the sun peeking through the window, highlighting her features. Impulsively I reach out and brush the back of my fingers against her cheek and her eyes open slowly.

"Hi," I say as she sits up and looks around. "I need to get some gas. Do you want to go in and pick up some supplies?"

"Okay," she says, yawning slightly. We get out of the car and I watch as she disappears inside the store while I place the nozzle into the tank and wait for it to fill up. She is gone from my sight once she steps into the back of the store and even though I know we aren't being followed, I don't like it. I top off the tank and replace the nozzle before heading inside to use the restroom. I glance around and don't see her so I assume she is in the bathroom. When I walk past I hear water running and wait a minute until she finally comes out.

"Will you get me a coffee?" I ask.

Skye nods and walks away as I head inside the restroom. A few minutes later I find her selecting a few snacks, my coffee already in her hand. I take it from her and grab a couple of water bottles and an extra pre-paid cell phone as well as another gas card, just in case. I pay for everything and we are back in the car and on our way once more. Skye sips on her soda, opening a package of pop tarts as I fumble with the radio. She hands me one, wrapped in a napkin, and I say, "Thanks."

I glance her way once and she looks better than she has since this whole thing started. She smiles at me and my heart melts a little as I wish we were different people and this was just a normal road trip. When she turns up the radio and starts to sing along I can't help but smile too.

***

We are somewhere in Ohio when I feel the sharp pull on the wheel, jerking the car to the right, and the telltale thumping of a tire going down.

"Crap," I mutter as I pull the car off to the side of the road. The rear right tire is flat so I pop open the trunk and pull out the tiny spare, sighing as I realize we won't get very far on that. I change the tire and get the car on the road again, pulling off at the next exit. The town is small but they have a tire repair center that is already closed for the day.

"Great," I complain as I survey our options, parking the car at a local diner. "We might as well get something to eat."

Skye nods and we walk in and select s booth away from the windows where I can keep an eye on the door just in case. A waitress comes and takes our orders and as much as I hate to remind Skye, this place seems so much like the one where she met Mike Peterson. Where she turned me in to the cops as a fugitive. Where my charade as the Grant Ward she knew, ended. I don't say anything but I can tell she feels it too. The air around us is charged with electricity and Skye shifts uncomfortably in her chair. When the waitress finally brings our food I say, "Our car needs a new tire. Is there some place we can stay around here?"

"Sure," she tells us, giving me directions to a place not far away. "It doesn't look like much on the outside but it is clean and the family that owns it are very nice."

"Thank you," I tell her and Skye and I eat in relative silence after she leaves. I hate these ups and downs with her but I understand.

She is looking tired again and I worry that whatever is going on with her hasn't been cured by a good nap. As we leave I wrap an arm around her and she leans into me, her head resting on my chest. I open the door for her and then get in the driver's side, following the directions to the motel down the street. It is old and the paint is peeling on the building but I park in front of it anyway. We don't have much of a choice and I trust that the waitress was telling the truth about it being better than it looks.

I open the door while Skye waits in the car and the gentleman behind the counter looks up in surprise. I wonder how much traffic they get in general in this unknown location. I explain to him about the tire and inquire if he has a room available.

"Plenty," he tells me as he asks for ID and a credit card to pay for the room.

I hand over what he asks for, not worried that he will suspect anything, and ask if he has a room away from the road. "My girlfriend has a hard time sleeping if there is a lot of noise."

He glances out to the car and nods before handing me a key. "Room seventeen is the best one for sleeping. Not too near the road or the ice machine."

"Thanks," I answer, taking the key and my ID from him before heading back to Skye. I drive us to the back of the motel and find number seventeen. There are no other cars on this side of the motel so at least I know it will be quiet.

"It's not bad," Skye says as I unlock the door and let her in. It's obvious that the room has been recently updated with new carpet and furniture and stylish bedding. A large flat screen television sits on a dresser and the bathroom is clean as well. I drop our bags near the door and offer to let Skye use the shower first. While she does I turn on the television and drop onto one of the two queen sized beds, kicking my shoes off and flipping through the channels. The shower starts and I turn the sound up slightly. When Skye comes out a few minutes later she is dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a shirt of mine, her hair wrapped in a towel. She still looks tired but she smiles as she walks past me, taking the other bed. It's my turn in the bathroom and I am just getting the shampoo out of my hair when a loud bang startles me. It takes a moment for me to realize that someone is knocking on the door. I quickly turn the water off and hear Skye calling my name desperately. I barely get the towel wrapped around me before ripping open the door, wishing I would have thought to bring a weapon in the bathroom with me. I look around the room, attempting to assess the threat but there is no one else in the room besides Skye. She is pacing back and forth in front of the bathroom door and her eyes are filled with tears.

"She's dead," Skye says, pointing toward the television. The news is on and a breaking news banner is on the bottom half of the screen while the picture shows a burning building in Washington D.C.

"Is that?" I ask even though by her reaction I know the answer already.

Skye won't stop pacing but she pauses every now and then to check the pulse monitor. I reach for her hand and pull her close to me. When I wrap my arms around her she leans into me and I can hear her breathing hard and shallow as the news repeats what she's already heard. A woman and two men have been found dead inside the remains of a building that has been rocked by a huge explosion.

"Shh," I whisper as I hold her close. She is warm to the touch and as I pull back from her I see her face is flushed and red. Her legs slip out from under her so I lower us both to the bed as she continues to cry.

"This is my fault," she says through her sobs. She is almost hyperventilating and I reach for her pulse monitor, pushing the button to see for myself how she is doing. The readout shows one hundred four and as she leans into me her arms hold me tight, as if she is afraid to let me go. Or maybe more that I will let her go. I glance down at her face and her eyes are unfocused once more, her body shivering slightly as she clings to me. Across the room on the dresser a glass, still wrapped in plastic, dances closer to the edge. When I see this I blink hard, doubting what my eyes are showing me. The glass shatters, tiny pieces filtering down inside the plastic, containing the explosion.

"Skye... You need to calm down," I say as she shivers violently. She is burning up underneath my hands and as the news story starts to repeat the breaking news she trembles more and the second glass begins to shatter. It's almost in slow motion and would be fascinating if I weren't so scared for her. The remote is nearby so I grab it and turn the television off. Skye's head lolls to the side and her body grows heavy as if she is losing consciousness, so I lay her down on the bed, but when I do she grabs for me, clinging to me like a lifeline.

"I'm scared," she whispers as another shock wave rocks through her fiercely. Whatever this is, whatever is doing this to her, I don't know how to make it stop. I lay beside her, wrapping my arms around her once more before pulling her close to me. "Don't let me go."

"Never," I whisper in her ear. A crack appears in the ceiling. Tiny, yet growing. "Take deep breaths, Skye. In through your nose... Out through your mouth."

She does what I say and slowly the crack settles down and surprisingly, reverses itself. I don't understand how that can even happen. Is she doing this? If so, how? Why? She continues the breathing exercises and I continue to hold her, waiting for her to come back to me. Her breathing slows and slows until I know she is finally sleeping. I reach for the pulse monitor and it displays seventy five. When I place my hand on her forehead though, I know she is running a fever. Whatever this is, it's not over.

***

Days pass and Skye sleeps in a fever induced haze, crying out from time to time, mumbling words that make no sense and there is nothing I can do for her. The car is fixed and still we stay on in this motel with me making excuses to the family that runs it. They ask too many questions and since I won't let them into the room or allow them to call their friend the doctor, I'm afraid they will alert the authorities to our presence. I finally lie to them, tell them that she has a terminal illness. That we are on a final trip together and that she just needs rest. They seem to buy this story even though I hate saying those words. I remind myself often that it is just a way to keep us under the radar. Undercover. We've missed our opportunity to connect with Coulson but the news has kept me informed of what happened in D.C. Unless they've been lied to, the media is reporting the woman as a former field agent that I knew as Agent 33. My guess is that she was working with Hydra and now I have more questions than answers. I wish we hadn't tossed the phone that Coulson had originally called Skye on, but that's our protocol. I wonder if he is worried about her. Wondering if she's been captured or if I've betrayed him. Betrayed her. I can't even imagine that.

I leave her as little as possible, usually only to run errands or get something to eat. I've just returned with some Tylenol and soup from the diner, opening the door to find her exactly as I've left her. The covers are kicked off and she is sleeping, her face still flushed with fever. I settle my packages on the table next to her bed and brush my fingers against her cheek. She is still warm and when her eyes open they are unfocused and confused. Carefully I sit her up, using the pillows to prop her up. 

"I brought you some soup," I say and she nods, closing her eyes again. Opening the Tylenol I shake out two of them and grab a bottle of water before convincing her to take them. She does and swallows hard before I get her to take several spoonfuls of soup as well. 

"No more," she whispers, waving her hand weakly in front of her face. 

"Okay," I agree and close up the container, giving her another drink of water before I curl up beside her, letting her head rest against my chest. 

"Ward?" 

"Yes?" I whisper, brushing her hair away from her face with one hand as I hold her close. 

"Was it all a lie?" 

I'm taken aback by her question, not sure what she is asking at first but then I see the tears on her cheeks and I understand. "No." 

She looks up at me and even though she is sick and I know better, I press my lips to her gently, just for a moment. When I pull back, her eyes meet mine and I see the conflict in them. She presses her head next to my chest and I know she hears my heartbeat. 

"I love you," I whisper as I place a kiss to the top of her head but she is asleep and can't hear me anymore. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep myself, dreaming of a world where she is mine and we aren't running from anyone.

***


	5. Chapter 5

When I wake up I see Skye sitting at the desk, the lamp on low as she leans over something, her back to me.

"Skye?" I call her name but she doesn't look up so I climb out of bed and walk slowly over to her. She has a pen in her hand and she is writing furiously on the notepad before her. Several other pages are covered with doodling and laid out side by side. As I lean in closer to see what she is writing I place a hand on her forehead. It is cool to the touch and I am relieved that her fever is broken until I glance down at what is on the paper. What I first thought was doodling is clearly not and my heart skips a beat as I realize it is the same stuff Garrett carved into the glass on the bus. My hand grabs for the pen, wanting her to stop, but when she looks at me I immediately let go. That unfocused look glazes over her brown eyes and she turns her attention back to the paper in front of her.

Skye continues scribbling furiously and when she uses up the last of the notepad she says, "I need more paper."

I look through the drawers but find nothing. Her hand writes in the air and she says, "I need more paper!"

"I know," I tell her, glancing around until I see a paper bag that I carried her soup in yesterday. I grab it off the nightstand and bring it to her. "This is all I can find. Write small."

"Yes," she agrees and starts drawing on the stiff brown paper.

I leave her to her scribbles and grab some clean clothes and head for the shower. If she is feeling up to it I want to get us back on the road again. I need to find a place that has an internet connection so she can make contact with Coulson. Once I'm dressed I head back out to the room and Skye is now sitting on the bed, flipping through the channels on the television. The papers are laid out side by side on the desk and I glance over at them but they don't make any sense to me.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better," Skye says and for the first time I believe her. There is color in her cheeks and her eyes are back to normal. I glance from her to the papers and ask, "What is this all about?"

She shrugs and looks away, not wanting to talk about it. For now I don't feel like pushing her so I say, "Why don't you get a shower so we can get out of here."

Skye gets up and starts toward the bathroom when I remember that I have a little good news for her. "It wasn't May in the building."

She stops and turns back to me, listening as I fill her in on what the news said. "When we find a place to stay tonight we will make sure it has wi-fi. Hopefully Coulson has her now."

Skye showers and I pack our bags, putting everything in the car, and when she is ready I drive us around to the front, dropping off the key and thanking the owners for all of their help.

"Where are we going?" Skye asks as I direct the car back to the interstate.

"West," I tell her as I still don't have a real plan. We don't have any place to be but I have already decided that we need to avoid the larger cities so I don't have a specific destination in mind. "Hopefully we can pick a better town to stay in tonight."

"You didn't like the last one?" she asks curiously.

"Too small," I answer, getting the car up to speed as we merge into traffic. "We need something large enough to avoid meddling town folk but small enough to stay under the radar."

"Good luck with that," Skye whispers and I smile as I realize she is right. We are definitely in small town territory and with the exception of a few major metropolitans I really don't know much about this area. We drive for awhile before Skye pulls out the papers with the strange drawings on them.

"What does it mean?" I ask, glancing over once before returning my attention to the road.

"I don't know," she confides in me. "Coulson had me researching this for weeks but I was never able to decipher it."

"Garrett was drawing that same pattern," I tell her.

"I know," Skye responds. "And I saw it on the original 084 too."

She looks at me as if maybe she's said too much and adds, "I don't know what the protocol is anymore."

"It's fine," I answer. "I'm on your side. Whether or not you want to share things with me is up to you. I'm not in this for Hydra or S.H.I.E.L.D. or even Coulson. I'm here to protect you."

I glance over at her to see what she thinks of my confession but she is staring out the window and I know I've made her uncomfortable. We continue to drive until I see a chain hotel and pull off the interstate.

"It's kind of early," Skye says and I agree.

"Yes but we don't really have any place to be and I want to make sure you can get in touch with Coulson. He has to be worried."

She nods and I see a look cross her face that concerns me.

"Is something wrong?" I ask her as I direct the car into the parking lot.

"No," Skye replies but I don't believe her. I don't want to push it so I let it go for now and we head inside and up to the front desk. I speak to the person behind the desk while Skye looks over the pamphlets and I am impressed at how convincing she is that we are just a couple on a road trip. She selects a few and comes back to show them to me as we get checked in.

"This looks interesting," Skye says to me as she hands me the pamphlet.

I look it over and hand it back to her, nodding as the clerk hands over our key cards and then gives us more information on the attraction Skye has expressed interest in. I watch as she listens attentively and smile when she looks my way and I know we look like a couple in love. As we walk back out to park the car near an entrance closer to our room she slips her arm around mine and my heart involuntarily skips a beat. It only takes a few minutes for us to settle into our room and Skye drops on to the bed and pulls her laptop out of her backpack, booting it up and connecting it to the internet. She types away on it for awhile while I lay on the bed next to her watching her work. I don't understand half of what she is doing but finally she asks for one of the cell phones and when I hand it to her she turns it on and keys the phone number into the program she has running. After that I watch as she pulls up the Washington D.C. newspaper online and reads through the articles on the bombing at the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility.

"Are you hungry?" I ask as I lean over and grab a menu from the nightstand.

"Yes," she says as she shuts the laptop and sets it aside. I slide up next to her and show her the choices before we agree on a pizza. Neither of us feels like going out so I use the hotel phone to order and we sit back, watching the late afternoon news as we wait.

"Are you feeling okay?" I ask as I glance toward her. She looks much better than she has in days and I hope that whatever is happening to her is done and over with.

"Yes," she says but I'm not exactly sure I believe her. At the very least something is bothering her but I don't want to pry so I let it go. She reaches for the remote and changes the channels to a comedy show just as there is a knock on the door. Getting up I slip a gun in my waistband before grabbing some money from my wallet. When I look through the peephole I see what appears to be a pizza delivery man so I open the door, one hand still on the gun, just in case.

"Hi," the man says as he hands over the pizza. I take it with one hand and give him the cash telling him he can keep the change.

After he is gone I close the door and lock it securely before bringing the food back to the bed. We have no plates so I just set the box on the bed and grab two of the sodas we picked up earlier, handing one to her and keeping the other for me as we open the box, each selecting a slice. Skye's appetite hasn't returned yet and she nibbles at the one piece while I eat several. She grins at me and reaches across the bed with a napkin, wiping at the corner of my mouth.

"Thanks," I say as I reach for another piece. It feels like we haven't eaten this well in days and when she laughs at me all is right in the world.

***

We are laying on the bed, both half asleep, her head on my chest as I run my fingers sleepily through her hair when the cell phone rings. The sound startles us both and I grab for the remote to mute the sound on the television as Skye answers the phone.

"Is she okay?" she asks, dispensing with any pleasantries.

I can't hear Coulson's side of the conversation but Skye sighs in relief and I realize that May must be back with him now. She listens for several minutes and then says, "Yes, we're fine too."

I raise an eyebrow her way but I'm not surprised that she doesn't want Coulson to know what happened to her.

"I need to ask you something," Skye says and I see that same conflict in her eyes as earlier. "Where did you get all the hieroglyphics you've been having me research?"

Whatever he says she doesn't like the answer and I see her eyes go hard and angry. "They didn't all come from Garrett. Are they yours? Did you write them?"

I'm a little surprised by the questions even though I know I shouldn't be. He must answer affirmatively because the Skye who takes everything in stride, who lets everything roll off her back, is suddenly as furious as I have ever seen her. "Who took the photos? May?"

Again he must answer the way she expects and Skye explodes. "And you didn't think it was a good idea to tell me?"

She is quiet again for a moment before she says, "Of the three people walking around with alien DNA inside them you didn't think that I had a right to know?"

My eyes meet hers and she looks away, embarrassed by her own revelation and I am only mildly shocked. Based on things Garrett and Raina said, I could easily guess that the _GH-325_ serum was alien. "You told me we had to protect the team from this yet May knows and I didn't. That's just great!"

She listens for several long moments, her face gets angrier until abruptly she drops the phone on to the bed and says, "I'm done. You talk to him."

I watch as she gets up and walks away, heading into the small bathroom and slamming the door behind her. I can hear Coulson's voice still coming through the phone's speaker, calling her name and slowly I reach out for it and hold it to my ear. I interrupt him as he calls for Skye again. "Yeah, I don't think she's coming back."

"What happened?" Coulson's voice is angry yet concerned and as I tell him everything I can hear him suck in a breath when I explain to him about the writings.

He is quiet when I finish so I ask, "It was alien DNA?"

"Yes," he answers before changing the subject. "Where are you?"

"Somewhere in the Midwest," I say, not wanting to divulge our exact location.

"If you want to bring her in I will make the arrangements," he tells me.

"Will she be safe?" I ask, hearing the door open to the bathroom. She is standing just inside and I can see her through the mirror hanging just outside of the door, listening to the conversation. I put the call on speaker so Skye can hear everything and get up off the bed, motioning her out so she can hear better.

"She'll be on the bus with me," Coulson says. "I don't have a better place for her yet."

"And I suppose you'll lock me up again," I reply.

Skye shakes her head and is about to interrupt when I place a finger on my lips to quiet her down.

"I don't know what to do with you Ward," Coulson says and I hear the conflict in his voice.

I ignore his words and ask again, "Can you guarantee she will be safe?"

"Can you?" Coulson retorts.

"I have so far," I answer, rising to the bait. It makes me angry that he's even questioning this. I'm not the one who convinced Skye she was invincible and could go into enemy compounds unarmed. I'm not the one who let Ian Quinn shoot her, although I still carry my own guilt over letting Garrett know how close Coulson was getting to our new agent in training. It wasn't my idea to inject her with some unknown miracle drug and now that I know its origin - and have seen what Skye is going through - I don't know that it was such a good idea. My brain eats away at that thought as soon as it occurs to me. Without the alien drug she would not be here right now and I can't even imagine a world where Skye doesn't exist.

I sigh in frustration as Coulson says, "It's probably not a good idea to bring her in. How is your money situation?"

"Dwindling," I answer. "We'll have to make a few more stops if we need to stay on the run for awhile."

Coulson is silent for a moment and I glance toward Skye as she begins pacing in frustration. "Wherever you are, start heading south. Stay out of the big cities for now while I work on the details."

"How far South?" I ask.

"Deep," he replies. "Don't dispose of this phone yet. I'll call you as soon as I have the details."

"Copy that," I respond.

"Let me talk to Skye."

She shakes her head no so I say, "She's not available."

"Put her on the phone," he snaps and for a moment my S.H.I.E.L.D. training steps in and I almost hand it to her before remembering that he is not my boss anymore.

"Just let her calm down for awhile," I tell him, my eyes on hers. I see the betrayal in hers and it suddenly dawns on me that, to her, she has been betrayed by everyone she has ever trusted. "Give her time to work through this on her own."

She waits to see what he will say, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, almost as if she is trying to contain another outburst. The mirror behind her on the wall cracks slightly, just in the corner, and she turns toward it in surprise.

"I have to go," I tell Coulson. "Call us back when you've made the arrangements."

I hang up without waiting for a reply and hurry across the room to her. She stares at the crack, one finger reaching out to brush against it. She pulls it back suddenly and I see a little drop of red blossoming across the tip and flowing down her finger.

"Come on," I say, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her into the bathroom where I run it under cold water. She stands there looking numb and confused while I rinse out a washcloth and wrap her finger in it, holding it tight for a moment. I need to get a band-aid so I hurry out of the bathroom to grab the first aid kit I bought when she was sick and carry it back toward the bathroom.

When I come back in she is sitting on the edge of the bathtub staring at the floor. "Sorry."

"It's okay," I answer as I remove the washcloth and apply the band-aid. She won't look at me so I slip my hand under her chin and force it gently up. She looks completely devastated and my heart breaks for her. "Talk to me."

She shakes her head no and looks away from me. "Skye..."

"I don't want to talk," she snaps, getting up and storming out of the bathroom. I start to get up to follow her but think better of it and clean up the bathroom before closing the first aid kit. I stand there for another minute before I finally step out into the room. She is sitting in the small chair next to the bed, her knees pulled up right to her chest as she stares angrily out the window. It takes everything in me not to go to her and instead I put the kit away and double check the safety on my gun before settling it in the bag as well. As I stand there uncomfortably she glances my way and she looks so lost that I just want to hold her and tell her everything will be okay.

"Are you ready to go to bed?" I ask and she nods, so I pull back the covers and wait until she climbs in before I turn out the light. She turns away from me so I leave her alone, wishing there was something I could do to ease her pain.

***


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the confusion on the chapters. Nothing was missing but one chapter was duplicated in draft. Thank you for the kudos and comments. 
> 
> Special note about this chapter. I would rate it probably in the higher teen category, but if anyone disagrees and thinks I need to up the rating, please let me know and I will change it.

The soft click of a door closing wakes me from a fitful sleep and immediately I know what is happening.

"Dammit," I mutter as I jump out of bed, grabbing the key card before rushing to the door. I yank it open hard and glance left and then right before I see her. She is dressed in jeans and the dark blue sweatshirt, the hood pulled up obscuring her face. Her backpack is slung over one shoulder and one of our bags is in her hand. She is standing at the elevator waiting when I call her name. "Skye."

She doesn't turn even though I know she hears me so I sprint down the hallway as quietly as possible before she has a chance to get away. When I get to her I whisper, "You don't get to do this."

Her eyes look up at me then and I see the sadness in them and I wish more than anything that she would talk to me. I reach for the bag in her hand and she lets me take it and then I thread my fingers through hers, squeezing her hand in reassurance as I lead her back to the room. When we get there she drops dejectedly into the chair at the window, staring out at the inky black sky. I bend down in front of her so I can see her face and say, "You're not alone in this."

Skye's face tells a different story and I know she won't tell me what is bothering her so instead I say the words for her. "You have every right to be angry at Coulson. He shouldn't have kept that from you. But he cares about you... more than anything... and Skye, I know you care about him too."

She finally looks at me with those sad brown eyes and I feel worse than ever for what I've done to her. "You feel like we've all betrayed you... that you can't trust any of us..."

I pause as I reach out and touch her face gently with my fingers. "I'm so sorry. I really am and I will spend every day for the rest of my life trying to make it up to you."

She reaches for my hand, pulling it down into her lap, her fingers running softly over the scar along the vein. Her voice is quiet, hesitant, as she asks, "Did it hurt?"

"What?" I ask, caught up in the look on her face. It is wistful as if she is worn down by the last few months and I know she wishes things were different.

"This," she taps the scar softly.

"Yes and no," I tell her as I grip both of her hands in mine, leaning close so she can see my face. "I wouldn't recommend it."

She stares at me for so long, her eyes conflicted, her hands squeezing mine, until finally she says, "I miss my van."

I nod, understanding the truth behind the words. She longs for the days when she didn't rely on anyone. Where she didn't know her father was a monster. That death and heartache and betrayal didn't follow her around like a love sick puppy. The days when the worst thing she knew was that nobody wanted her. She was strong and resilient and brave and nothing could touch her then and now we've broken her down completely. I wonder what her life would be like if we hadn't snatched her from the van. What if we'd just let her go after the Mike Peterson case? I remind myself that she wanted to be on the bus as much as Coulson wanted her there. I smile as I think about those early days when she got under my skin and drove me crazy. When did I fall in love with her? I can't even remember, but I know it was early on. I think of those better days when she would smile and laugh and tease and she was so beautiful that I was desperate to fight my attraction to her.

She is still holding my hands and we are so close that I can feel her breath on my cheek. When I lean in closer to her she doesn't back away and I don't care if it is right or wrong anymore as I press my lips gently to hers. The electricity is instantaneous and we are out of control from that moment on. My hands let go of hers to slide into her hair, as hers cup the back of my neck. There is need and want and desire all rolled into this desperate kiss and a moment later I am pulling her up from the chair, pushing the jacket from her shoulders, wanting to be as close to her as possible. It falls to the floor but we never stop kissing as I lower her to the bed. Her lips are hot against mine, her hands branding me as she slides them under my t-shirt and I break away for the tiniest of moments as I yank the offending material away from me. I whisper her name as I press kisses into her neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent of shampoo and soap. She smells incredible and I think I could live here, pressed so close to her, never wanting for more than this moment. I dare to glance at her face and her eyes are closed, her mouth open, beckoning me once more, and the temptation is too great to resist. My lips press hard into hers and her mouth opens to me as her hands pull me close. A fire is building deep inside me as I reach for the hem of her shirt. I push it up, waiting until the last possible moment to separate our lips, and as soon as it is gone, they land back home again. My hands are roaming now, caressing her soft skin and she sighs quietly at my touch. That sweet sound is enough to bring me back from the edge as I look into her eyes and see the want and need in them. I have to ask though. I need to be certain.

"Is this okay?" My voice is low and husky and my heart aches as it waits for her decision. If she says no I will stop immediately, but if she says yes, oh if she says yes, I know we can never go back. Once we cross this threshold she will own my heart in its entirety.

Her eyes are locked onto mine and I see so much staring back at me. She is hurt but I see now that we haven't broken her. She has been a survivor since day one and regardless of whether or not she stays with me or goes back to Coulson I know she will make it. This beautiful woman before me is not going down without a fight. I can't help myself as I brush a lock of hair away from her face and when she smiles I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I see her now. The girl I love and finally, finally she loves me too. When she nods it is brief but her smile lights my world and when she reaches for me, pulling me to her for another kiss, I am down for the count. This time there is no doubt and she is as hungry for me as I am for her. I forget about her sadness, her pain, my guilt, as I trail kisses across her soft flesh. Her fingers entwine in my hair as I slowly bring her to a place beyond reason. She calls my name. Not Ward, but Grant and then she is gone, lost in the world I've created just for her. I want her now, so desperate is this need that I kiss her urgently and then try to settle down. No matter what this is still about her. My next kiss is slow and sensual and when our eyes meet she nods, more than ready for me. When we join together it is more incredible than anything I could ever imagine. Her eyes stay locked on mine and the intimacy is palpable as we move together as one. The world collapses into this one moment and when she finally closes her eyes and lets go I can no longer hold on.

It takes forever to come back to earth and when I do I know I am the luckiest man on the planet. I will love and protect her until I take my last breath and as she curls into me her eyes meet mine and a smile crosses her face and I know she loves me too.

***


	7. Chapter 7

I know I am dreaming and it is a good one when something tickles at my nose. I don't want to wake up. I'm kissing Skye and it is incredible so I brush my hand across the offending itch quickly and desperately fight to stay in my dream. The sensation comes again and I bat at it a second time but it is too late. I am awake and when the tickle returns a third time I open my eyes to find something better than a dream staring at me. Skye has a long strand of her hair in her hand and is leaning over me brushing the ends on my face. She is grinning and when she sees she's woke me up she leans in and kisses me softly. My fingers slip into her hair holding her close and a moment later I playfully flip her onto her back, holding her down with the weight of my body as I glower menacingly at her. The look on my face makes her laugh and I relish the sound even as I lower my lips to hers once more. We kiss for several minutes and briefly I think about taking things further but I know we need to get going.

"Do you want to shower first?" I ask and she nods, leaning in for one last kiss before heading toward the bathroom. While she is gone I lay back on a pillow, my mind flitting back to our early morning activities, and I smile happily to myself. I hear the water stop and a few minutes later Skye appears, her dark hair wrapped under a towel and scantily clad in the recently purchased lingerie. I know I'm staring and I can't help it. She is so beautiful and I am absolutely head over heels in love with her. No woman has ever made me feel like this and I realize that before today I'd never really been happy. My entire life before now had been dedicated to pleasing other people. First my parents and my older brother, and if I didn't they knew exactly how to make my life miserable. Even Garrett, who I thought I owed everything to, took advantage of my desperation for someone to care about me and I easily looked away from everything I did that was flat out wrong or immoral as long as he was pleased with me. But none of it meant I was happy. The months after Garrett's death had been rough. I'd had to figure out who I was when someone wasn't telling me what to do or who to be. I was so lost that I really did want to die but eventually I realized that I needed to accept every part of who I was so that I could remake myself into the person I wanted to be. I was a killer. A specialist, trained to get the job done. A loner who was too good at being alone. I was detached from everyone I ever met. Until Skye walked into my life. I know it might seem like I am replacing one person's approval for another's, but in reality that is not it at all. She makes me want to be a better person, that much is true, but I finally figured out that I want to be that person too. I want to be a man she can be proud of. The man she is not afraid of. The man she loves. I don't need Skye to be someone to give me orders like Garrett. I want her to be my partner in life, where we make the decisions together and where we both have an equal say in what happens to us.

I realize that I have been staring at her as my thoughts wandered and she grins at me and asks, "Are you okay?"

"Never better," I answer as I get up and place a light kiss on her forehead before heading into the shower. A few minutes later I open the door and stand there with a towel wrapped around my waist as she does her make-up in the mirror over the dresser.

"What do you think?" I ask as I rub my thick beard. It's starting to get scraggly and something needs to be done about it. "Keep it or shave it,"

Skye finishes lining her eyes with a dark pencil before she walks over to me and lightly caresses my face. As she looks me over she presses her lips together as if she is considering her choice carefully. I can hardly stand to be this close to her and not touch her so I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her a little closer. "Well?"

"Shave it," she says and stands on her tiptoes to press a light kiss on my lips. When she steps back she smiles and I am grateful for her change in mood. She is almost the Skye I remember from before. I know that things have changed tremendously for us and that there is a chance we are building this whole thing on a house of cards, but I will take that chance. I cup her cheeks in my palms and lower my head to kiss her once more before grabbing my toiletry bag with the shaving cream and razor, heading back into the bathroom.

***

We are on the road again, Skye surfing through the radio stations faster than anyone I've ever seen. She sings along with a song and then half way through changes the channel again. After awhile I grin as I spare a glance her way.

"Bored?" I ask.

"I guess," she replies, grinning sheepishly my way before changing the station again. When I laugh she does too and it is a sound I have truly missed. When I reach a hand out to her she takes it and slides her fingers in between mine for a moment, squeezing gently before letting go again. We are heading south now and the sun is high in the sky, bearing down on the car and making the air conditioner work overtime. The leaves on the trees lining the interstate are turning a multitude of colors, but the weather doesn't seem to know it is autumn. The cell phone that had been sitting forlornly in the cup holder all this time suddenly rings and as I glance toward Skye I see her frown as she reaches for it. I turn the volume down on the radio as she answers.

"Hello?" Her voice has lost the playful lilt as if she's suddenly been reminded of every bad thing that's happened recently. She listens quietly and then says, "Let me put it on speaker."

When she presses a button Coulson's voice cokes through the speaker. "I've got a safe house set up for you unless you want to come in."

"To the bus?" Skye asks, glancing my way.

"Yes," he tells her.

She seems to consider this option for a moment and I can't blame her. Coulson has been almost like a father to her and with May there as well, I'm sure she would be much safer than traveling about with me. "What about Ward?"

I hear Coulson's frustrated sigh. "You know I can't let him go, Skye."

At least he's honest about it, I think to myself as I pull into a rest area. I need a break from driving and I can't concentrate on the road and his words at the same time.

"So even if we choose the safe house option, you're going to lock him up again when you bring us in." Her words are cold and clipped. Hard consonants reflecting her anger.

"Skye," Coulson's voice is a warning and I can't help but reach out and squeeze her hand.

"It's okay," I whisper.

"It's not okay," she snaps and I see tears spring to her eyes, flooding her eyelashes. "This is not okay."

"Bring her in," I say finally to Coulson and her eyes get wide as the tears break free from the corner of her eyes and stream down her face. "As long as you think she will be safe."

"No!" Skye says angrily. "I don't want to be back on the bus. I don't want to go back to business as usual. We'll go to the safe house."

"Skye," Melinda May's voice comes through the phone's speaker, soothing and concerned. "Just come home. We'll figure out everything else once you're safe."

I glance Skye's way and for a moment I can see it in her eyes. That need to be back with them. To be with these people who obviously care about her but then that same mask of resentment drops over her face and she says, "I don't have a home. I never have."

And there it is. The heartbreaking truth of Skye's entire existence. Coulson and May are talking one over the other to her but I know she doesn't hear them. She has shrunk back into that shell to protect herself and there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop her right now. Silence fills the car and minutes pass by with no one saying anything until Coulson finally tells us, "I'm sending the Quinn jet. It will take you to the safe house."

"What about my car?" I ask, even though I don't really care.

"We'll put it storage for you," Coulson replies. "You'll get it back."

"Where are we going to meet you?"

He asks where we are and gives me directions to a place that is a few hours away. We agree on a time that seems reasonable to meet and I hang up the phone. I glance toward her but she is staring out the window and I feel like I've lost her again. "Skye?"

She shakes her head, refusing to look at me, lost in her own world again.

***


	8. Chapter 8

The rest of the drive is quiet with only the radio to keep me company. She hasn't spoken a word and the one thing I've definitely learned is not to push her when she's upset. I see our exit and pull off the interstate, directing the car down a two lane dusty road with houses few and far between. When I get to the spot the GPS has been aiming for I pull over and turn the car off. No one is around so at first I think we are early until the huge jet appears out of nowhere. I glance over to Skye and she nods and opens the door, getting out and walking toward the trunk of the car. I pop the trunk as two men exit the plane. I recognize Antoine Triplett right away but not the other man. Trip's eyes narrow as he sees me and I wonder briefly if Coulson is going to follow through with letting Skye go to the safe house. At this point it might be just as easy for him to bring her in and deal with her anger later. Skye grabs her bag and walks past the first guy without a glance, heading straight toward Trip.

"I'm here to take your car," the guy says, his accent indicating that he is British. He glances back toward Skye for just a moment. "Is she okay?"

"I don't know," I answer as I see Trip reach for Skye's arm as she attempts to pass him without a word. His grip is light around her wrist but her eyes are cast downward and whatever she says makes him let go quickly. As she climbs the ramp Trip glares at me. I grab the other bags and toss the keys to the Brit before walking toward my former friend.

"What did you do to her?" Trip demands as I approach.

"That's not me," I tell him, my voice firm but not antagonizing. "That's all Coulson right there. If he thought he was protecting her by keeping secrets from her he was wrong. Whatever's going on with him... It's starting to happen to her too."

Trip looks at me curiously and I realize that he doesn't know anymore than she did. He puts two and two together quickly though as he asks, "The _GH-325_?"

I nod and pass him by, climbing into the jet as he follows. Skye sits in the last row of seats, her eyes closed and her arms wrapped tightly around herself. I want nothing more than to go to her, comfort her, but with her walls up like this I know that any interaction will be unwanted so I let her be. Trip glances her way and then mine before he heads to the cockpit. It doesn't take long until we are in the air and I am unbuckling my seatbelt, walking back toward her. Her eyes are still closed and now her head rests against the plane wall so I guess she is sleeping. I understand her boredom in the car because I feel it now too as I have nothing to do during this flight. Turning I walk toward the cockpit and see Trip inside. I knock softly on the wall and ask, "May I come in?"

Trip nods and I settle into the co-pilot's seat, glancing out the window at the clouds around us.

"How did you get a Quinn jet?" I ask.

"Skye and I stole it," he replies and I nod in approval.

"Where are we headed?" I ask. The sun is to the right of us so I know we are still heading south but being above the clouds makes the rest of it guesswork.

"A place too good for you," he tells me. "But not good enough for her."

"That narrows it down," I reply. He has every right to be angry with me. Garrett had been his S.O. too but to Trip, he had been a wolf in sheep's clothing. He'd lost friends to Garrett's games. He'd been lied to by me. I glance his way and add, "I'm sorry."

Trip seems to understand and even though he doesn't respond there is the slightest nod of his head and he says, "The safe house is on an island in the Keys. It has a perimeter defense system so you will know if anyone tries to come for her. The place is fully stocked and I managed to get you both some clothes too."

"Thanks," I reply happy to hear that Coulson's keeping his word. It doesn't take long until we are descending through the clouds and I see the island in question. It is isolated and mostly forested with a long pier at one end and a decent looking house at the other. All around are thick, tropical looking forests and there is clearing just big enough to land the jet. Trip does a good job and then hands me over a set of keys and an envelope.

"The alarm code and safe room password," he says and I nod, thanking him. He stops me as I get up to leave and asks, "Do you have any messages for Coulson?"

I don't even have to think about it as I answer, "Yeah... Tell him she doesn't say bang anymore when she pulls the trigger."

Trip nods even though I'm sure he doesn't understand and says, "Keep her safe."

"That's the plan," I tell him and head to the back of the jet where she is still sleeping. A fine sheen of sweat covers her brow and I can guess her fever is back even before I brush my hand along her cheek. "Skye, we're here."

Her eyes flutter open and close again as she mutters, "Sleeping."

"I know," I whisper, grabbing her bag and throwing it over one shoulder before unbuckling her seatbelt and lifting her carefully in my arms. She is so hot that I am really worried about her as she leans her head into my chest. I struggle to grab the other bags and glance up as Trip comes out of the cockpit. The concern on his face is instant and he reaches for the bags, pulling his weapon out and leading the way toward the house. I follow him closely, barely taking in the scenery although I feel the humidity immediately as we walk along the path to the house. Trip unlocks the door and keys in the code to the alarm before I lay Skye on the sofa. Together we clear the rooms of the small beach house, guns drawn until we are convinced it is safe.

When we get back to the living room Skye is still sleeping fitfully on the sofa. Her hair is slick with sweat, her bangs plastered to her forehead. Trip looks at me and asks, "Do you think she should be in a hospital?"

"Where we tell them what, exactly?" I ask. "That we injected her with an alien drug that healed her when she should have died and now we don't know what it's doing to her?"

"Point taken," Trip replies, looking a little disturbed by my revelation about the _GH-325_ being an alien drug.

"Tell Coulson that if he is not working on a cure for himself he'd better start working on one for her."

Trip nods and says, "I'd better go. There's a phone in the kitchen that is a direct line to Coulson. If you need anything... or she gets worse, call him."

"All right," I agree and walk him to the door, watching him head down the path and back to the Quinn jet. He boards it and the plane disappears under the new cloaking technology. I hear it lift away and soon all is quiet on our little island.

Closing the door I turn on the alarm and perimeter warning systems before returning my attention to Skye. First I move our bags into the larger of the two bedrooms and pull back the sheets on the bed before heading back to the living room. Carefully I slip my arms underneath her and lift her, carrying her to the bed. I lay her down and remove her shoes before searching our bags for the first aid kit. The thermometer is there and I change the cap on it before I take Skye's temperature. It is almost one hundred and six and I am worried now. Hurrying to the kitchen I fill a glass with water and grab the Tylenol from the kit, lifting Skye into my arms and attempting to wake her.

"Stop," she complains, her hands pushing weakly at me to leave her alone.

At least she's somewhat awake I think to myself as I settle her back against my chest and say, "I need you to take these, Skye. They will help you feel better."

I place the Tylenol in her mouth and tip the glass slowly toward her lips. I see her swallow and one hand reaches for the glass, wanting the rest of the water. Some of it drips down her chin and she whispers, "It's so hot."

"I know," I say into her hair, holding her close for a minute. Her skin is burning up and her face is flush when I lay her back on the bed and I know I need to do something to cool her down. I head back to the kitchen and hunt down a plastic container that I fill with ice and water. Taking it back to the bedroom I sit it down on the nightstand and find a washcloth in the bathroom. Dunking the cloth in the ice water I wring it out and place it on her forehead.

She sighs in relief so I carefully run it across her cheeks and chin and then down to her throat before dunking it back in the water and placing it on her forehead once again. I decide to take her shirt and jeans off and then get another washcloth and slowly run it over her right arm, pausing at her palms and the crook of her elbow. When I get to her neck she turns her head toward me, her eyes open but glazed over with fever.

"Hot... Too hot," she croaks out, tears springing to her eyes as she silently begs me to help her.

"I know Baby," I reply as I dip the cloth back into the water and then slowly run it up her other arm. She closes her eyes again as I move the cloth down her throat and across her stomach, lingering slightly at the slim, jagged scar left over from when Ian Quinn shot her twice. It is smaller than it should be, evidence of the advanced healing of the alien drug and I frown slightly as I remember that day. Seeing her lying in a pool of her own blood, so much blood, dying, not breathing, my heart pounds at the memory and I shake my head hard, clearing the thoughts away. I need to focus on the here and now and carefully I finish my task, covering her with a light sheet before replacing the cloth on her forehead with another one before taking everything back to the kitchen. I check on her again and when I see she is sleeping I decide to make myself a sandwich. It's been hours since I've had anything to eat and even though I'm not really hungry my stomach growls at the thought of sustenance. As I poke through the pantry I see that Coulson has indeed set us up for the long haul here. We could easily last weeks in this tropical setting without ever needing a thing. Dropping tiredly into a chair in front of the window I place my sandwich on the table and stare out at the Gulf of Mexico. It is absolutely beautiful here with the waves slowly crashing into the sand as the sun hangs low in the sky. Palm trees sway in the warm breeze and a line of pelicans fly low along the water's edge most likely looking for fish. It is peaceful here and if Skye were feeling better I might actually be enjoying myself. When I'm done eating I clean up the kitchen, appreciating the granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. It's the first time I've really looked around and I can tell this place is well loved. I wonder briefly who owns it as I poke through the bookshelves in the living room. There are DVDs for every type of interest and books and board games and when I see Battleship it takes me back to another memory.

We were on the bus, me staring her down as I tell her that every decision she makes will have consequences. I'm trying to intimidate her but when she says G7 my face falls and I grudgingly say, "Hit."

She is more excited than a person should be, I think to myself and then I make the mistake of telling her that she is fitting in nicely. Her face is shocked but teasing as she asks me if I just gave her a compliment.

"I made a comment," I reply back desperately trying to hide my amusement and failing miserably.

"A kind one," she says. "Did it physically hurt to do that? Do you need an ice pack?"

A smile escapes me and she says, "Whoa! A compliment and a smile."

"Comment," I interrupt her.

I remember the sparkle in her eyes. The teasing lilt in her voice. The smile that plays across her lips when she says, "I don't want to ruin the moment but I'm going to have to respond with... G4."

My face crumples and hers gloats as she says, "Say it Ward. Say it."

I frown as I appease her. "You sunk my Battleship."

A noise brings me back to the present and I hurry into the bedroom to find Skye on the floor. I hurry to her and she is burning up. The only thing I can think to do is put her in a cold shower so I scoop her up and rush into the bathroom turning on the spray and climbing in with her. I don't even care that my clothes are getting wet or that the water is freezing as I lower us to the ground, holding her in my arms as water rains all around us. I think about calling Coulson. Maybe she should be on the bus. Maybe Simmons could help her. I don't know. All I know for sure is I am scared to death right now. Her skin burns under my fingers and her head lists to the side resting against my shoulder, her mouth slightly open and her eyes rolling back in her head.

"It's okay," I whisper as she murmurs nonsensical words, holding onto her as tightly as possible. I am shivering in my soaked clothes but I keep her under the water until finally the temperature of her skin seems more normal.

When she finally lifts her head I see the confusion on her face. "It's cold."

I reach for the handle and turn it off before I slowly stand, leaning her against the shower wall for a moment as I strip the sopping wet clothes from me, dropping them in a pile on the tile floor. I step out to grab some towels, wrapping one around me before going back into the shower and drying her off. Skye's eyes are closed again as I pull her into my arms and carry her back to the bedroom. I search through our bags until I find her a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and get her dressed before putting her back in the bed. She is shivering now, her skin covered in goose flesh so I wrap her in blankets before I find some clothes for me. It is dark outside and I am exhausted so I turn the lights off and climb into bed beside her, pulling her close to me. She curls up onto my chest and I wrap my arms around her listening to her breathing slow. I hope this is over because I can't take much more of it. I kiss her forehead softly and close my eyes falling almost instantly to sleep.

***


	9. Chapter 9

The ocean is surprisingly warm as we play in the surf. She is beautiful in the bright pink bikini, her dark hair pulled up into a ponytail as I hold her close. She is staring up at me, love filling her eyes as I lean in to claim her lips. This island paradise is better than I could imagine and I selfishly hope we never have to leave. Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me down to her and she is pressing herself so close to me that I want her right this moment. No one is around, I think to myself, bending down to scoop her legs up into my arms as she clings to me, her mouth opening to my kisses. I lay her down on the beach blanket under the umbrella I've set up earlier and place a thousand kisses across her olive skin as she closes her eyes, tipping her head back as her body arches toward me. She is everything I have ever wanted. Everything I've ever needed and I am going crazy with desire to her. I press light kisses along the scar on her abdomen. The one I feel so guilty over when she lays a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. I look up and my heart pounds in fear. Her skin has gone gray, dark viscous blood seeping from the corner of her mouth. There is blood everywhere, flowing out of the two gaping holes in her stomach and flooding into the sand around us.

"Skye," I cry out as she stops breathing before me. "Somebody help!"

There is no one there. We are alone and she is gone and no one will save her this time. I hold her in my arms sobbing when someone touches my shoulder.

"Grant." Her voice is a whisper but it is loud enough to wake me and I open my eyes to see the concern in her chocolate brown eyes. She is leaning over me, one hand cupping my cheek as she says, "You were having a nightmare."

"Yes," I agree as I pull her close to me, holding her for everything I'm worth. My lips seek out hers and I kiss her long and hard, running my fingers through her hair, pressing her close to me so there is no space between us. When we part I lay my lips next to her ear and say, "I love you Skye."

Her eyes meet mine in surprise and I nod, reaffirming my words.

"I... I don't know what to say," she says, pulling back and looking away.

My heart aches but I understand. I sit up and wrap my arms around her, holding her close as I whisper, "It's okay."

"It's not that I don't..." Skye pauses and her eyes meet mine when she turns to look at me. I feel bad that I've made her uncomfortable so I caress her cheek softly, lowering my lips to hers once more.

When we part again she smiles shyly at me and I ask, "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes," she tells me as she looks around the room. "Where are we?"

I tell her about the island and she smiles a little at the thought of us having a temporary home for awhile. Her tummy growls in protest of the lack of food she's had lately and I get up to make her breakfast while she gets a shower. When she appears Skye heads straight to the windows staring out at the gorgeous view. She is wearing a pair of jeans shorts and a pink tank top, her hair pulled away from her face in a low ponytail.

"Wow!" she says, looking back at me happily.

"Let's eat out on the lanai," I say and she nods, coming over to help me pour orange juice into glasses. I turn off the alarm and we head out into the beautiful Florida morning. The sun is shining and the breeze smells of salt and jasmine as we settle in at the table overlooking the Gulf. An osprey sits nearby in a palm tree screeching occasionally. We eat in contented silence and after we clean up I change and we decide to go for a walk. When I poke through the dresser drawers I see that Trip has indeed brought summer like clothes for both of us. From the sheer amount of them I wonder how long Coulson expects us to be here. I grab a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, sliding into a pair of sneakers before slipping a gun into my waistband.

"Don't push yourself too hard," I tell her as I put the alarm on and we head out the front door and down off the deck overlooking the palm lined drive. Together we poke around the yard, looking into the garage where we find fishing poles, a kayak and a jet ski.

"Do you think we can go down to the beach?" Skye asks.

"I don't see why not," I answer after a moment. My mind has unwillingly gone back to my nightmare and I can't hide it from her.

"What's wrong?" she asks as she steps closer to me. Her arms wrap around my waist and I pull her close burying my nose into her hair. I breathe deeply and smell strawberries and I am gone. I lower my head seeking out her lips and the softest of sounds comes unbidden from deep inside her as she opens her mouth to me. We are drawn to each other like moths to a flame and she is pulling at my shirt desperately wanting it off. I yank it over my head and she wraps her arms around my neck, kissing my throat softly. I glance around in a daze thinking that the house is too far away and the ground is too hard for her but then I see a courtyard hidden around the side of the house.

"C'mon," I say, entwining my fingers in hers as I hurriedly direct her towards the secret garden. Sure enough it is beautiful with the most fragrant flowers and a water fountain bubbling in a corner and a bench with the softest looking outdoor cushions I've ever seen. Next to it is a wrought iron coffee table and I carefully remove the gun from my waistband, checking the safety before laying it down and reaching for her again. Her mouth claims mine, her hands at the button on my shorts, as she desperately pushes the fabric away from my skin. Her hands are soft on my hips and suddenly I am wearing no clothes and she has too many.

"Skye," I moan softly as her hands touch me and I go weak in the knees. I drop onto the bench, pulling her down with me. She straddles me, lifting her arms so I can remove her tank top. When I do it is the scar that stops me again, the guilt weighing on me heavily. Skye senses the change in my mood and looks at me but my eyes are down, my fingers tracing the scar. If possible it looks smaller than yesterday. This is still my fault and even if it completely disappears I will always know it was there.

"Grant," she whispers, her fingers touching my chin, lifting slightly so she can see my face.

Tears fill my eyes as she looks straight into my soul. I know she sees my guilt. My sorrow. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She kisses the tears away one by one before placing her lips to my ear. "I know you are."

"How can you even be with me," I ask, one hand still holding her at the waist. While I have accepted most of what I've done, I still can't forgive myself for allowing Garrett to almost kill her.

"You can't change what's happened, Grant, but you've made amends. You could have left me behind in D.C. Or New York. Or left me somewhere along the road for Coulson to collect me. But you didn't. No one... _No. One._ Has cared about me like you." Her lips land back on mine and there is a fierceness in them as she claims me as her own.

***

The days go by and our little world is peaceful, allowing us to almost believe we can stay here forever. We quickly create a routine of working in the morning and playing in the afternoon. Skye makes breakfast. I make dinner. We play Battleship and Scrabble. Watch movies and listen to music. Wander the island, hand in hand. She hasn't had any more fevers or alien writing episodes and I hope that's over now.

We have determined that the island is about four miles long and a mile wide with palm trees and mangroves and a brackish creek running through the midst of it. We've made a habit of checking the perimeter, confirming that nothing has been tampered with. We kayak amongst sea otters and herons and egrets. This island is special and not just because of its beauty. Skye has given me a second chance. She hasn't said the words but I see it in her eyes when she looks at me. Feel it on her lips when she kisses me.

"How long do you think we will be safe here?" Skye asks as we settle onto the sofa. The sun has set and the blinds are closed as I turn on the television to watch the evening news. It is our only contact with the outside world but nothing of interest catches our attention.

"Forever I hope," I reply as she lays her head against my shoulder, curling up under a blanket. We have the lights on low and it is her night to pick the movie so I am sure it will be something Disney and sure enough when she presses play, _Frozen_ starts.

"Again?" I mock complain, and she smacks me in the chest making me laugh before we turn our attention to the movie. She sings _Let It Go_ and I notice what a beautiful voice she has. She glances over at me self-consciously and when I grin at her she leans in and kisses me softly. She sighs contentedly before turning her attention back to the movie.

***

It is early morning when I hear Skye gasp out loud as she sits up quickly in the bed. Moon light peeks in through the window and it is enough that I can see she is terrified. When she pulls her knees up to her chest I turn on the light attempting to reassure her.

"They're coming," she cries as I wrap an arm around her shoulder.

"No," I tell her. "It was just a bad dream."

She turns to face me and her eyes are dark and unfocused, something truly alien about them as she shakes her head. "You need to leave."

"I'm not going without you," I tell her, pulling her close.

"You have to," she whispers as tremors rock her body. "I saw... I saw..."

She can't finish the sentence, her eyes closing to ward off whatever it is.

"Shhh," I whisper, caressing her hair softly. "It's okay."

She shakes in my arms forever, her body wrapped in on itself as if it is armor and all I can do is hold her. When she finally looks up at me I see a mixture of fear and guilt in her eyes.

"Skye?" I whisper her name, desperate to bring her back.

"It wasn't a dream," she tells me. "You need to leave."

"I'm not going anywhere without you," I insist.

"Don't you understand?" she asks, her eyes dropping to her hands in front of her. "Death and destruction follow wherever I go. I can't be responsible for your..."

I see the tears spilling down her cheeks as she trails off and I understand. She is afraid I am going to die. That it is going to be because of her.

"Let's call Coulson," I say. If she really is having a premonition then we've been made somehow.

She nods, getting up and opening drawers, getting dressed. She wants to be ready so I follow her lead, grabbing the bag of weapons as well. I'm nervous now that I'm on board with this. We walk through the darkened beach house and I check the alarms and perimeter warning system and both are active and showing no intruders. Skye hands me the phone and I push the button on it, listening as it rings for an eternity.

"Skye?" Coulson's voice is sleepy yet concerned as he answers.

"It's Ward," I tell him, watching as Skye lays all the guns on the counter, checking each one for bullets and making sure the safeties are intact. This one act unnerves me more than it should as I tell him that we may be in trouble. I tell him about the fevers. The glass cracking. The darkness in her eyes. She stares at me as I talk and I place a hand on hers reassuringly.

"I'm on my way," Coulson replies. "Sit tight until I get there."

I'm about to hang up when Skye looks at me, the alien eyes returning. Her hand slides out from under mine as she grabs a gun and says, "Time's up."

***


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does have some violence in it but I wouldn't consider it graphic so I didn't change the warnings for the story. If you read it and feel that I have it mislabeled, please let me know and I'll change it. 
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos. They are very much appreciated.

The perimeter alarm goes off, a loud klaxon reverberating through the house. I can see from the display panel that multiple access points have been breached. Skye unceremoniously dumps most of the weapons back into the bag as the lights on the property go dark. The backup generator will keep the alarm system on but it doesn't matter. I realize our one mistake now and it is a big one. We never discussed what we would do in this situation. Coulson is still on the phone so I say, "Whatever you're going to do, do it fast."

I don't wait for a reply as Skye and I duck down behind the island in the kitchen. I poke through the bag, grabbing the weapons I want by feel, two in my hands and two in the waistband of my jeans and she does the same. The window embedded in the front door shatters as something sails into the house and right away I know we are in big trouble. A smoke bomb explodes and fills the air and our lungs making it hard to breathe. Skye fumbles around with the drawers for a moment, pulling out two dish cloths. She hands one to me and ties the other around her neck, yanking it up over her mouth and nose. The smoke stings my eyes making it hard to see as I continually blink tears from them. 

"You okay?" I whisper to Skye, trying hard to see her in the darkness but she isn't even a shadow. She pushes herself closer to me and the contact of her body next to mine is reassuring. 

"Fine," she answers, her voice muffled from the towel covering her face. Multiple alarms are wailing now and they are a distraction to the real threat. Vaguely I hear the footsteps on the cedar deck outside as they approach the broken window. More glass shatters as they clear the shards with the butts of their guns before the door opens and I know the enemy is inside the house. We are trapped in the kitchen and as they shine a flashlight through the haze of smoke I see they are well armed. The light sweeps the living room and then turns toward the kitchen and I know we only have moments.

"There," a voice calls and I shoot blindly trying to use my body to protect her. I hear the sound of another shot before the pain of exploding flesh and bone rocks through my arm. It hurts like hell but the flash of the gun gives me something to aim for and I dispatch the first target easily. There is no way for me to save her at this point and my heart aches at the thought of failing her. The metallic smell of blood is in the air and she yanks the towel from her face, covering my wound tightly with it before she stands.

"Skye, no!" I yell but above me I hear each shot she takes and then a corresponding thud of a body and then a final shot that takes out the blaring alarms.

"Come on," she says as she reaches for my good arm, dragging me to my feet just as the lights come back on.

"Stop!" A well armed man stands in the doorway dressed from head to toe in black Kevlar. The laser sight beads directly on my forehead and I can only imagine that I have very little time left on this earth. As more men pour through the door of our little beachfront hideaway I hold both guns out in front of me, making sure they know I won't fight anymore.

"Set them on the counter," the first man says gruffly. I do as he asks and back away still keeping my body between them and Skye. "The girl too."

She hesitates. I know she is calculating in her head how fast she has to be to take them all and I want to tell her that the odds are slim to none as more men enter the house. She seems to agree and slowly lowers her weapons, placing them on the counter in front of us. The men descend on us and the one closest to me sucker punches me in the stomach as he yanks me away from Skye. Another sweeps my legs out from under me unexpectedly and I drop to the ground in a heap, taking the added blows while still trying to keep an eye on Skye.

Two of the men have dragged her over to the counter and I can't help but wince as they slam her head onto the granite, using one hand to hold her down as they frisk her for further weapons. Her fingers grasp the counter's edge and I see the leering, lustful stare as the guy leans over her. He brushes her hair away from her face and leans in to whisper something I can't hear which sets her off. She jerks against him, desperate to free herself from his weight and he laughs at the ineffectiveness of her maneuver.

"Whitehall wants her alive," I hear one of the other men say and I'm shocked by the mention of the head of Hydra. How is he connected to Skye's father? Have we been wrong about who's been after her all this time?

"She'll be alive," the guy says, laughing as Skye continues to struggle underneath him.

"Leave her alone," I yell which reminds the others I am still conscious and they descend on me again. My hands go up to block my face and one of the guys sees the blood on my shirt and punches me hard, pain exploding behind my eyes from the force of it. I'm desperate to stay conscious, to make sure that they don't hurt her, but I can feel the darkness calling. Her eyes meet mine and I see a mixture of fear and concern in them.

Without warning the glass from the windows of the beach house cracks, slow and spider-like, webbing from top to bottom until tiny shards fly inwards, showering the operatives with glass.

"What the hell!" one of the men says and a moment later one of the larger pieces flies up from the ground, sailing across the room and embedding in his neck. He screeches in agony, dropping to the floor as blood spurts out of his jugular vein. His partners stare at him in shock, looking out into the darkened night for the threat, not knowing that they should be afraid of what is inside the house with them. Skye's eyes are dark now, unseeing, and the house creaks and moans as if it is suddenly alive. A small crack scars the ceiling growing and groaning and the men look up in terror.

"Let's get out of here," one of them yells and several men start for the door. The one holding Skye drags her up and she pulls away from him as the ceiling aches from the weight of itself and suddenly the little beach house implodes around us.

***

Sunlight peeks in through the ruined roof as my eyes open slowly. Dust filters into my eyes and as I reach up to rub them clear my arm throbs in agony. Long minutes pass before I finally move again, carefully sitting up and pushing the remnants of sheet rock and wood away from me. The house is gone completely, only the foundation still standing as the rest of it has collapsed in on itself. Dead bodies lay all around and my eyes search desperately for Skye. She is laying underneath the rubble and I struggle to get to my feet, my head aching as I realize I have bloody wounds from either the beating I took or the collapse of the house. I sway slightly before I sluggishly make my way over the debris to where she is.

"Skye?" I whisper as I drop to the ground beside her. She is buried under what used to be the cabinets and I shove them aside, praying she is alive. When I brush her hair from her face she opens her eyes slowly. A large bruise blooms across her forehead and there is a cut along her cheek but she smiles when she sees me. 

"Grant?" I help her to sit up and she winces in pain. I can only guess that maybe she has some bruised or broken ribs, but she slowly gets to her feet and together we struggle through the remains of the beach house and out into the early Florida morning. We make it into the scrub brush and toward the small landing field where Trip dropped us off all those days before. We hear the Quinn jet before we see it and Skye ducks her head as the wind whips the sand around us. When it lands and the cargo door opens I am not surprised to see Coulson standing there dressed in his usual suit and tie. When he sees Skye he hurries down off the ramp, crossing the ground to us and pulling her into his arms. 

"I saw the house from above," he says as he steps back finally, his hands cupping her face in concern before looking my way. "I thought..."

Coulson's voice trails away but it's obvious from the way that he looks at her, caresses her face, glances toward me and back to her, that he thought we were dead. 

"It was Hydra," I tell him as we slowly make our way to the Quinn jet. 

He looks at me in surprise and I find that I'm glad he didn't know. I've already figured out that anymore secrets between him and Skye will destroy what's left of their relationship. When we get to the top of the ramp Melinda May is waiting for us. Her eyes are filled with compassion and concern for Skye and she reaches a hand out for her saying, "Let's get you cleaned up." 

Skye follows her and before they disappear May looks back at me and nods appreciatively. While I know she will probably never forgive me for my betrayal of Coulson's team and especially for using her as a pawn in my games to get them all to trust me, I know that she is grateful that I've kept Skye safe for now.

***


	11. Chapter 11

It is weird being back on the bus. Like the rest of us it wears the scars of Hydra's infiltration deep within its soul. I am sitting on the examination table inside the medical pod with my shirt off as Jemma Simmons looks over my injury. She is professional and is aware of how much the gunshot wound hurts as she carefully tends to it, but she does not make eye contact with me and I don't push it. Coulson stands nearby but I haven't seen Skye since we boarded the plane. Jemma finishes stitching me up and helps me back into my shirt before putting my arm in a sling.

"Try to keep it immobile," she says before she heads out of the room.

"Thank you," I call after her before looking at Coulson. He stares at me and I ask, "Do you want me to head to the cage?"

"No," Coulson replies, wrapping his arms across his chest as he says, "Trip gave me your message."

I nod not sure what he expects me to say. We stare at each other and my thoughts easily go back to that time before Skye knew how to shoot a gun. Before she could easily dispatch an entire unit of assassins. "She's different."

"She's an 084 Ward," he tells me. "The GH formula isn't reacting the same way in her system as in mine and Garrett's."

It takes me a moment to process his words. How can she, a normal, beautiful woman be an object of unknown origin? I realize that the fact that he's so willingly shared this with me means that I must be earning back his trust in at least a small way.

"You're drawing the alien symbols too," I finally say and he nods.

"I don't know what they mean," Coulson replies. He waits a minute and then asks, "She brought the whole house down?"

"Yes," I answer. "But in all fairness they were trying to kill us."

We stare at each other for awhile in silence, each sizing up the other until he says, "Your bunk is still available. You might want to make yourself scarce though. You're not well liked on this plane."

"Thank you Sir," I say. As I head past him I add, "You need to be honest with her or you are going to lose her."

I walk through the plane avoiding the others and trying not to look at all the damage that still disfigures this once beautiful aircraft. My stuff is all still in my bunk which surprises the hell out of me. I would have expected them to have thrown it out and given my bunk to one of the other guys on their new team. Slowly I close the door and kick my shoes off, lying back on the bed. My mind wanders back in time to when I first met her. Who would have guessed that the young, spunky hactivist would have become so much more to me than just a rookie S.H.I.E.L.D. agent? I certainly never expected her to be the person who saved me, both emotionally as well as physically, and 084 or not, I love this girl with all of my heart. I close my eyes, my thoughts drifting to kissing that beautiful creature, and those thoughts turn into dreams as I finally drift off to sleep.

***

I fight for long drawn out minutes to stay asleep and when I finally give up and open my eyes it takes me some time to figure out that I am back on the bus surrounded by all of my old things. This bed, which used to be so comfortable is suddenly too small and I realize that it has been hours since I've seen her, held her, and I know now what's woken me up. I've become accustomed to her curled into my side, her hand resting across my abdomen as her head lays against my chest. My fingers long to slip into her hair, my lips ache for hers and I miss her so much. The alarm clock shows that it is early morning and most likely the other inhabitants of the bus will be sleeping, except possibly May and Coulson but I'll take my chances. As quietly as possible I open the door to my bunk and peer out into the darkened plane. Skye's bunk is a few doors down and when I get there I am surprised to see it open, the bed made, and appearing as if she hasn't even been here in days.

Where is she?

I wander through the sleeping plane looking for her until I finally make it downstairs to the lab. It is empty and I am at a loss as to where Skye is when it suddenly occurs to me that there is one place I haven't checked yet. I hurry down the hall hoping I am wrong and when I get to the cage I wonder if I will even be able to gain entrance. I key in the code and surprisingly the door opens. When I peek inside I pray it will be empty but it is not. Skye is sitting on the bunk, her legs pulled tightly to her chest, her forehead resting on her knees as her hair veils around her. She looks up slowly as I cross the room and her eyes are wet with tears.

"What are you doing in here?" I ask, angry that Coulson has locked her up. I settle in beside her on the bunk, wrapping my good arm around her. She leans into me her breath going out of her in relief as I hold her tight. I can't believe that Coulson has done this. What the hell is wrong with him? Is he trying to alienate her even further? I lace my fingers with hers, standing up as I say, "I'm getting you out of here."

"No," Skye says, pulling her hand back from mine, shaking her head fiercely.

"Coulson shouldn't have..."

"He didn't," she interrupts me. "I told him to put me in here."

I look at her in confusion. "Why?"

Her eyes meet mine and I see the fear in them. "I can't control it. If something were to happen..."

She trails off and I understand immediately. If something were to happen while the plane was in the air we would all die. I settle back down beside her and say, "Why are you crying?"

Skye looks at me for a moment before turning her eyes toward her hands which are now folded in her lap. "You saw what I did. To those men. I'm a... monster."

"Shhh," I whisper, pulling her close to me. "You definitely are not."

"I killed them," she snaps back at me. "They are all dead because of me."

I shake my head and grab her chin with my fingers, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes are filled with guilt and fear and loathing for herself and as they meet mine I see the questions in them as well. Do I think less of her? Am I afraid of her too? "They are dead because they chose to attack us. You saved us."

"At what cost?" she whispers.

"They were bad guys," I tell her. "They got what they deserved."

She can't seem to process this and I can tell she is exhausted as her eyes drop once more.

"Have you slept at all?" I ask, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek.

Skye shakes her head no. "I can't."

"C'mon," I whisper as I pull her down onto the cot. I stretch out against the wall, giving her most of the bed. She willingly lays her head down against my chest and I suddenly realize that she needs me as much as I need her. Her arm wraps around my waist, snuggling in close as mine tangles in her hair, holding her as her breathing slows. She is completely exhausted from all of this and as my fingers brush her temple I feel the beginnings of a fever. I sigh in frustration. When is she going to catch a break? When is this thing that has a hold of her going to let go? For now all I can do is press my lips to her forehead and hold her tight. At least she can sleep for awhile.

***

The plane shudders, startling me awake. Skye's body is a furnace pressed close to me as she sleeps and I see her cheeks are flushed, her mouth open slightly as her eyes move rapidly underneath her eyelids.

"No," she whispers urgently in her sleep, her voice soft yet frightened. "Don't make me do this." 

"Skye," I call to her, running the back of my hand against her cheek trying to wake her. "Wake up." 

Her eyes open and they are anxious and dark as she looks past me as if she is seeing something that I can't. Sharp, violent waves shudder through her and the plane feels it too as we surf the turbulence and her hands reach for the metal at the head of the cot, gripping it tightly. I watch in awe as her fingers wrap tightly around it and the headboard disintegrates within her grip. 

"Help me," she whispers, her eyes meeting mine and I see Skye in there again, momentarily and then she is gone. My fingers brush her forehead and I can't even guess what her temperature is as she burns underneath my touch. 

There is a camera in the room and I hurry toward it, hoping someone is watching. "She needs help! She's burning up in here... and you'd better land this plane now." 

I don't know if anyone has even heard us but I hurry back to her, brushing her hair back from her face as she fights whatever changes are happening inside her. 

"Skye," I call out her name again, louder this time. "Stay with me. Help is coming." 

The door to the cage opens and Simmons, Coulson and the Brit named Hunter hurry in. Simmons takes one look at her and turns to Hunter. "Get me as much ice as you can. Sheets and towels too!" 

"Fitz," she calls out, looking straight at the camera. "I need an IV and a fever reducer now." 

She hurries past me toward Skye and takes her temperature just to be certain. When her eyes meet mine I see the shock in them. "This can't be right." 

"What is it?" Coulson asks. I see his eyes are on Skye but more importantly on the crushed portion of the cot. Her slim fingers are evident in the marred metal. 

"One hundred and seven," she whispers and there is fear in her eyes. "We need to get this down now."

Fitz and Hunter appear at the same time and Simmons gets to work immediately, asking me to hold Skye while she lays down the clean sheets. She is limp in my arms and I don't know if that is a good thing or not. The tremors have subsided and she is so still that if I didn't feel her heart beating against me I wouldn't know for sure if she was still alive or not. Simmons shoos the other men away, telling them to close the door as she asks me to undress Skye. I lay her on the bed and remove her shirt as Coulson moves to the shoes she is still wearing. I glance at him as he pulls on the laces, carefully taking off first the left one and then the right. I'm uncomfortable doing this in front of him but my hands reach for the buttons on her jeans and soon she is lying in just her underwear. Simmons quickly covers her with another sheet and then places the IV in her arm before injecting it with whatever medicine Fitz brought her. 

"Pile the ice around her," she says as she rolls the towels up and places them along the edge of the cot, using them as a barrier to keep the cubes on the bed. We do as she asks, Coulson and I working together to save this girl we both love, and soon Simmons adds another sheet to the top of our handiwork. 

"Wheels down in five," May's voice breaks through on the intercom. "Everyone find a seat." 

Coulson and I settle down on either side of the cot and Jemma sits in front of it and all we can do now is wait.

***


	12. Chapter 12

The days pass slowly as Skye lays unconscious in the cage. This is the longest that she has been under the effects of whatever is happening to her and I can see that everyone is worried. Jemma has had all of the medical equipment moved into the cage and monitors tell us everything except what is really causing the problem. Her fever persists, the drugs only lowering it enough to be non-life threatening, and Skye's heart works overtime, her blood pressure rising and falling sporadically.

"How is she doing today?" I ask Simmons as I enter the room. 

"The same," she tells me as she draws another vial of blood for testing. The plane is in the air again headed to the new S.H.I.E.L.D. facility that Coulson has arranged for us. "I'll be glad when I can run some more in depth testing."

"Will you be able to help her?" I ask knowing that the new place will most likely have a state of the art laboratory.

She looks at me and I see the concern on her face as she finishes drawing Skye's blood and applies a band-aid to her arm. "I don't know."

She spends a few moments writing down Skye's vitals before looking at me again. "I spoke to Fitz."

"You did?" I ask and my heart beats nervously. It never gets easier trying to make amends but I have to keep trying.

"He told me what you said," she adds and I know she is referring to the conversation Fitz and I had when I was a prisoner in the basement of the other facility. The one where I told him that I had ejected the pod in order to save their lives. It was my only choice at the time other than to directly defy Garrett's orders and then he would have had Mike Peterson kill them and me as well.

"I made a lot of mistakes," I tell her, my eyes meeting hers so she can see I am telling the truth. "I can't change what happened but I am very sorry."

"Okay," she says. We stand there in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes until she asks, "Are you in love with her?"

"Yes," I answer, my eyes drifting toward the still form of the girl we are talking about.

"Does she know?"

"Yes," I tell her. "She knows."

Jemma nods and heads out the door without another word. Slowly I walk over to Skye's bedside and brush my fingers against her cheek. She is warm but not burning up and I'm thankful for the little things right now. Seeing her lying in this bed takes me back to when Garrett had her shot and that nagging guilt returns once more. If Garrett hadn't been so anxious to find out how Coulson had come back from the dead she wouldn't be here now. I hate that I was so blind to everything he was becoming. That I was so loyal to him when in the end he proved he never really cared for me at all. I was just another pawn in his bid for immortality.

"Skye," I say leaning close to her so I give her the best chance of hearing me. "Please come back to me. I need you."

There is no movement, not that I truly expected any, but I just want her back again.

***

It is late and Simmons is asleep on the cot while I sit quietly on the floor, my back against the wall. I haven't been back to my bunk since Skye's latest episode. I can't leave her so I catch sleep when I'm able and otherwise just sit and wait. I'm just nodding off when the machines monitoring Skye blare angrily. Simmons is off the bed in a heartbeat rushing to her side. For her part, Skye seems completely unaware of all the fuss going on as she lays completely still as she has for the last several days.

"What's wrong?" I ask Simmons.

"Her core body temperature is dropping," she tells me.

"That's a good thing right?" I ask. "The fever's broken?"

"It's too low," she says. "And her heart rate is dropping. Go get me some blankets."

I hurry out of the cage to the supply closet and grab every last blanket in there.

"Here," I say as I rush back into the room with them.

Simmons takes one and covers Skye with it. "Put the rest on the table."

"Isn't there anything else you can do?" I ask.

"I just don't know," Simmons says as we both watch Skye continue to sleep on. "I don't know what's causing this."

"Hiber... Hibernation," comes a voice behind us and we both turn to find Fitz standing there.

"What is that Fitz?" Simmons asks as he had said it so quietly that I almost hadn't heard him the first time.

"You asked... I mean... You said... What could cause this. Hibernation could."

She nods as if considering the thought. "But humans don't hibernate."

"Maybe she's not... Uh... Human."

"Don't be silly Fitz," Simmons says but when our eyes meet I see the truth in them and know it is something that she's been considering. 

"It's not... Silly," Fitz tells her. "I've seen the recent blood work."

"Coulson said she is an 084," I confide to them and watch as shock crosses Simmons' face and realization is on Fitz's.

"She... Uh... She asked me... If an 084... Could be a... Uh... A... Person." He frowns as he seems to relive the conversation in his head. "I told her... I'd hate to... Uh... Meet... The guy."

"You didn't know," Simmons says, recovering quickly.

"That was the day... She was... Uh... Shot," he adds and I see that Fitz carries his own demons from that event as well.

***

"How is Coulson?" I ask when Simmons comes in to check on Skye a few days later. He had been coming to see her daily but I haven't seen him in at least forty eight hours now.

"He's getting worse," she tells me and then glances up as if she has said too much. "He's been carving the alien symbols non-stop for days."

Melinda May appears in the doorway asking, "Do you have any ideas on how to help him?"

Simmons nods and says, "Yes I do. We need to inject him with Skye's blood."

"That doesn't seem like a great idea," May replies, her eyes glancing from Simmons to Skye. 

"I've run several tests on both of their blood. Coulson is rejecting the GH formula and that's what is causing these... episodes."

"But we don't even know what is going on with Skye at this point," May adds. "How do you know this will work."

"I don't," Simmons tells her. "But I think Fitz is on to something when he said that Skye is in hibernation. In reality, I think it is something closer to suspended animation. Her heart rate and breathing have slowed to almost nothing. Her brain waves are at minimal levels but the fever is gone now. Whatever is going on with her, perhaps the worst of it is over."

"And you're suggesting that we subject Coulson to the same thing?" May questions, her voice hard as she tries to protect her friend.

"We know how this turns out if we do nothing," I say and May glares angrily at me. I know she doesn't like having me here, listening to Coulson's vulnerabilities, but I've seen the results of the GH formula gone bad first hand. "Garrett went bat shit crazy. You can't let that happen to Coulson."

"But we don't know if this will even work," May responds.

"I've done several tests and in every instance it appears that Skye's blood negates the effects of the GH formula."

"Completely?" May asks.

Simmons nods.

"Forget the alien portion of this experiment," May says. "Is this even feasible from a human perspective?"

"Yes," Simmons tells her. "Skye's blood type is O negative. She's a universal donor. We would need to do several transfusions and theoretically after that Coulson would be cured."

"Cured?" May asks. "You're sure?"

"As much as I can be," Simmons tells her.

"And what are the risks to Skye?" I ask.

"They should be minimal," Simmons assures me. "We won't know for certain until after the first blood draw."

"Where is Coulson?" I ask May. "Is he able to make this decision for himself?"

"He's in his new office," she tells me. "Right now? No, he's not."

Her face reflects the fear and concern for her friend and my former boss. She reminds me of someone who is in a position they don't want to be in and I am genuinely sorry that she can't confide in me anymore.

"What do you want to do?" I ask her.

"What choice do we have?"

Simmons nods and says, "I'll get started."

***

Blood. There's so much blood. It covers the floor and the flowered shirt she wears. Her hands are soaked crimson with it. She is dying and I am helpless. Why can't I help her? How did I allow this to happen? I'm going to kill Garrett when I see him next. The Clairvoyant. I know I owe him everything but this is too much. I didn't agree to this. Killing Skye just to get Coulson to reveal how S.H.I.E.L.D. saved him was not part of the plan.

"Shhh," she whispers as her eyes open, her skin gray, blood drying from the corner of her mouth. "It's just a dream."

Somehow I know she is right but this is scarier than watching her go through this the first time. Her eyes are closed again but she is now standing beside me as well. Machines breathe for her, keep her heart beating, yet she is dying and this is all my fault.

"Grant," she whispers in my ear and as I turn to look at her my heart breaks again. "You're dreaming."

"Prove it," I whisper and she smiles, her hand, now clear of all the blood, reaches out to touch my cheek. Her skin regains its color and she is wearing the pink dress. The one she wore to Quinn's party in Malta. She looked so beautiful that day and even though I still didn't trust her, I was starting to fall for her even then.

Her dark hair curls softly around her face and down her back and she asks, "Better?"

"Yes," I tell Skye pulling her close to me, holding her in my arms. Our lips touch and I've missed her so much that I cling tightly to her as my fingers tangle in her hair and my body presses close to hers. When I finally pull away I ask, "Are you okay?"

"I'm going to be fine," she answers, standing on the tips of her toes to press a kiss lightly to my cheek. "And so is Coulson."

I don't want to wake up at all now that she is here with me. I've missed her so much. "When are you coming back to me?"

"Soon," she whispers. "Everything's going to be just fine."

***

A sound in the room wakes me and I open my eyes to see Coulson walking into the cage. His clothing is disheveled and dark circles ring his eyes but they are focused completely on Skye as he crosses the room to where she lays sleeping.

"Sir?" I ask as he reaches for her hand. When he looks up at me I see guilt in his eyes and he glances back down at her once more.

"I was dreaming," he tells me, his voice soft and far away. "She was..."

"Dying?" I ask. When he nods I'm not surprised.

"She told me I would be okay," he adds.

"She told me the same thing," I tell him and he looks up at me in surprise.

"I think she saved my life," Coulson says.

"I know she saved mine," I tell him. Together we stand next to the girl that we both have put through so much. The girl we both love and can't live without. We may be at odds over everything else but where Skye is concerned we are of the same mind. We will both do anything to protect her, of that I am certain.

"We need to talk about Skye's father," I tell him and he nods staring at her still form.

"Not in here," Coulson says. I follow him up to his office and settle into one of the chairs in front of his desk. Once he takes a seat he says, "Go ahead."

"I'd heard stories about a massacre in the Hunan province in China years ago. There was a child exhibiting special abilities and Hydra sent in a team to check it out. When the parents heard they were coming for her the father sent the mother and baby girl into hiding in a nearby village. Somehow Hydra found the village and systematically went through, house by house, killing the villagers because they wouldn't reveal the location of the baby. At the same time S.H.I.E.L.D. heard about an 084 and sent a team in. Hydra found the mother and child and when she wouldn't give up her daughter they mortally wounded her. Somehow she managed to escape the village and the S.H.I.E.L.D. team found her with the baby. About this time is when all hell broke loose. The father entered the village and when he saw what the Hydra operatives had done he went berserk, killing friend and foe, looking for his family. The lead agent was shot but managed to get the baby out of the village and the father has been looking for her ever since."

Coulson looks at me when I am finished and asks, "Do you know what abilities the baby had?"

"No," I tell him. "Apparently once she was away from her parents nothing more ever happened."

"And the father?"

"Distraught over the death of his wife and loss of his daughter he started hunting down the people he thought were responsible."

"So he thinks S.H.I.E.L.D. was originally involved in the manhunt for his child?"

I nod. "My concern here is that Skye's father is now working with Hydra and if he finds her they will get exactly what they wanted all those years ago."

"We can't let that happen," Coulson says. He looks exhausted and worried. His eyes meet mine and he adds, "I don't know how to keep her safe. Hydra has been one step ahead of us the entire time."

"Who knew about the safe house?" I ask.

"Just us," he tells me.

"Do you think you have a mole?"

He gives me a funny look and asks, "Besides you? No."

"I wouldn't do that to her." I get that he still doesn't trust me but I would never betray Skye like that. "Whitehall's men broke into your D.C. complex while you had me locked up in a basement. The only ones who ever came to see me were you, Skye, Koenig and Fitz. There's no way I was in contact with Hydra during that time. When the power went out I didn't leave Skye behind for Hydra. I got her out safe. I kept her safe when you couldn't."

"I know," Coulson agrees as he settles back into his chair.

"Hydra found the beach house. I did not tip them off," I add.

"I know," he says again. He looks at me in frustration and says, "We have a mole."

I nod in agreement. "We need to get Skye away from S.H.I.E.L.D. again before they come for her."

"We can't move her in the state she's in," Coulson says. "She is too vulnerable."

"I guess we wait then," I say not liking either option.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written before _The Writing on the Wall_ aired so I resolved Coulson's alien writing in a different way. Another chapter will address more of what was revealed in this episode as well so there will be minor spoilers to that episode going forward.


	13. Chapter 13

Together Coulson and I head back down to the cage and find Simmons looking over Skye's readings on the medical equipment.

"Is she okay?" Coulson asks.

"I don't know," Simmons tells him, her eyes filled with concern. "Her EKG is showing regular spikes in her heart rate. They are coming exactly twenty minutes apart."

"How long has this been going on?" Coulson walks over to where Skye lays glancing at the monitors as they beep steadily.

"Several hours," Simmons tells him.

"Theories?"

"Her heart has been beating at minimal levels for days. Her core body temperature is barely sustaining her and every drug I give her burns immediately out of her system. Whatever this is, she needs to go through it and her body is resisting any outside help."

Coulson looks at her waiting for his question to be answered. Jemma's eyes go from mine to Coulson and then finally land on Skye before she says, "My theory is something is happening on a metabolic level. Changing her from the inside."

She looks at me and adds, "You said she started exhibiting some strange behaviors, especially while under duress."

"Yes," I tell them. "At first it was just glass cracking and once a crack appeared in the ceiling of one of the hotel rooms but then she was somehow able to reverse it. When we were under attack she managed to take out several of Hydra's men when we couldn't see a thing."

"And she managed to bring the whole house down too," Coulson adds.

"While making sure we didn't die," I say, reaching out a hand and covering Skye's. I wrap my fingers around hers and squeeze lightly not expecting any reaction but I feel the slight pressure and look down at our hands joined together.

"Skye?" I say, squeezing her hand again as my free hand cups her cheek. "Can you hear me?"

My eyes meet Jemma's and she nods. Something is happening and even the monitors are registering the change.

"Her heart rate is increasing. So are her respirations."

"Can you hear me Skye?" Jemma asks, leaning close to Skye's ear and speaking loudly. "Squeeze Ward's hand if you can hear me."

Simmons looks my way but Skye's hands stays still. I shake my head running my thumb lightly over the soft skin of her palm. The monitors continue ticking upwards and it seems like she is coming back to us.

"Skye," Jemma says, louder than before. "It's time to wake up."

I feel it. Stronger than before as her fingers grip mine tightly. When Jemma looks my way I know I probably have a stupid grin on my face but I don't even care.

"Open your eyes, Skye."

For several long moments Jemma calls out to her and Skye's grip tightens and loosens around my hand as I squeeze back in answer until suddenly her eyes open.

"Good morning," Jemma says brightly, brushing Skye's hair back from her face. "It's about time you woke up, sleepyhead."

Her eyes flutter closed and then open again as she looks around the room in confusion until she sees me. I squeeze her hand reassuringly and she smiles just briefly before closing her eyes once more.

"Is she..." Coulson trails off as Jemma nods.

"Her vitals are all nearing normal levels. She should be right as rain soon," Jemma tells us, looking relieved.

"Good," Coulson replies, motioning to me to follow him.

***

It is three weeks later when Skye and I sneak off the bus unnoticed. Only Coulson knows we are leaving and while he's funding our venture he doesn't want to know where we are going. The team is on a mission and the bus is parked in a private hanger just outside of Chicago. We are back in the Midwest but this time I know exactly where we are headed. I've done my research and gotten new IDs for us while Skye recuperated and Coulson managed to procure money and weapons for us.

"You ready?" I ask her as we walk toward the main terminal of the airport.

"Yep," Skye answers, reaching for my hand. We are taking nothing with us except her new laptop, tucked in a backpack, along with the cash, pre-paid credit cards, and a few handguns. Everything else I've managed to collect is in a nearby storage unit and that's where we are headed first.

"Did you manage to get everything set up?" I ask as we see the line of taxis and wave one down.

"We're good to go," she tells me. I open the door and let her in first before sliding in beside her and giving the driver the address. It is of an apartment near where our stuff is stored and makes us look less suspicious and less memorable to be dropped off there.

Night is falling and no one pays much attention as we walk through the apartment complex and out onto another street. The storage unit is not far and soon enough we are leaving the bright lights of the Windy City behind. I glance over at her and ask, "Are you okay?"

"Yes I am," she answers, one hand reaching out to touch my arm lightly. Being on the bus has limited most of our conversations and this is the first chance we've had to really talk. So far she hasn't shown any signs of abnormal abilities or any lingering side effects from being unconscious for so long.

We are heading west on interstate 80 once again and several hours later we are almost to our destination. Skye reaches into her backpack and pulls out one of the throw away cell phones and dials a number. She waits for a moment and then says, "Hello Mr. Ledbetter? Yes, this is Barbara Allen. I hope I am not calling too late."

She listens as the gentleman responds and then says, "Yes we are almost there now. We are just crossing the river and I see the sign for the first exit."

Skye waits as he tells her something and then replies, "Yes. Thank you. We will see you soon."

"He's meeting us there," Skye tells me as I exit the interstate and follow the road along the river until we come into the quaint downtown of the city we have chosen as our home for awhile. "Turn left here."

"Yep," I agree, and soon we are headed up a steep hill past spacious old homes and neat yards with large trees in front. As we continue up the hill the terrain evens out and the houses become fewer and far between. We are in the country now and Skye leans forward, looking at the street signs when we pass until she finds the one we want. I turn right and after another mile I see the house. It is set back from the road but the carriage lights are on to either side of the front entrance and a truck is parked in the driveway with the lights on. Turning into the gravel drive I say to her, "Open the glove compartment."

She does and finds a small yellow envelope. When she opens it three rings drop out, two for her and one for me. Skye hands the larger one to me and I say, "Thank you Mrs. Allen."

"You're welcome Mr. Allen," she replies, smiling slightly as she slips the two rings on her left hand and I pull the car to a stop next to the truck. Skye hops out of the car and I follow behind her as the owner of this house climbs down out of the cab of his truck. He is exactly what I was expecting and I smile inwardly as I take in the overalls, plaid jacket and John Deere cap.

"Did you have any trouble finding it?" he asks as we shake hands. His grip is firm yet friendly and I tell him no as he leads us inside. "You'll find the house exactly as advertised."

"It's lovely," Skye tells him as we climb the steps to the porch and enter through the bright red front door. Directly in front of us is a stairway, painted white and leading to the bedrooms. To the left is an office with a desk and chair and completely filled bookshelves. On the left is a formal dining room with settings for twelve already displayed. Large wood planks have recently been sanded and stained and the little farmhouse is much larger inside than what the outside indicates. We follow the hallway into a large kitchen and family room and I smile as I imagine nights spent in front of a roaring fire.

"There are three bedrooms upstairs along with a bathroom. A half bath is under the stairs," he tells us as he hands over the keys. He looks me over and says, "So you're a writer?"

"Professor," I answer, knowing that is the cover that Skye has set up for us. "I'm on sabbatical from the university to try and finish the book I'm working on."

"Ah," the farmer replies. "Well the fields have been cleared for the fall so we won't be waking you up too early."

I nod and tell him, "We're looking forward to seeing the grounds in the morning. Your photos on the Internet make it look very inviting."

"We like it," he says simply. "My wife told me to invite you over for dinner tomorrow evening. Our place is about a half mile down the road on the left hand side."

"We would love that," Skye answers as Mr. Ledbetter walks back toward the front door. 

"I'll let you get settled in. Come over tomorrow around six pm."

"Thank you," I say as I follow him out into the cool evening. He waves goodbye as he starts his truck and pulls away and I pop the trunk and grab our suitcases from inside. Skye is upstairs when I go back inside, locking the door behind me. Carrying the suitcases up the stairs I find her in the master bedroom looking over the furnishings of our temporary house. "What do you think?"

"It's as nice as it looked in photos," she says as she comes closer to me. Dropping the bags I pull her to me, my lips seeking out hers for the first time in ages. Her arms slide around my neck and my fingers tangle in her hair as she opens her mouth to mine. I hold her like this forever, my hands sliding down to her waist and wandering underneath the shirt she wears, stroking the soft skin along her sides until she finally breaks away and smiles sweetly at me. "I've missed that."

"Me too," I whisper, my voice gruff from wanting her. She sees the effect she has on me and there is nothing more I want than to resume kissing her and more, but we need to unpack and check the security of our new home.

"Are you hungry?" Skye asks and I realize that I am. When I nod in agreement she slips her hand in mine and together we head back down the stairs to the kitchen. The farmer and his wife have stocked the pantry and the refrigerator well for us and as Skye pulls out the makings of what I can already tell will be a good dinner, I check the doors and windows, closing the shades before opening the flue and adding logs into the fireplace. A few minutes later a healthy flame is growing and the warmth expands throughout the room.

"Dinner will be ready soon," Skye says as she curls next to me on the sofa.

"Thanks," I tell her, wrapping an arm around her, kissing the top of her forehead.

***

The morning comes too soon and I smile to myself as I feel the warmth of her buried into my side. Her head rests on my chest, one arm around my waist. I can feel her fingers resting along my side and she breathes slowly, still sleeping soundly. I know I should wake her. We still have a lot to do to make our new home safe but for the first time in weeks we both have had a good night's sleep and I'm not ready to disturb her. As I lay there my mind drifts to last night, and oh the things this girl does to me, and the way she makes me feel, I've never wanted or needed someone as much as her. My heart beats faster just remembering her hands on my skin, her lips on mine, the way she finally whispered that she loves me and the shy look in her eyes afterwards. I can't help myself as I brush stray locks of her chestnut hair from her face and when I do she opens her eyes slowly, smiling as she sees me.

"Hi," she says, her voice filled with sleep and I can't help but smile happily at her as she reaches out to cup my face. Her eyes are staring deep into mine and there is something so intimate about this moment that I couldn't look away if I tried. I'm so caught up in her that I don't realize she is closing the distance between us until her lips touch mine. My eyes close instantly as our kiss deepens, my hands sliding into her hair and then to her waist as I carefully turn us so that she is laying underneath me and soon we are reliving last night's activities once again. Afterwards she drags me out of bed and into the shower where we find that the little farmhouse's pressure system isn't quite what we had hoped for. Skye laughs as the water turns unexpectedly cold and I turn it off, reaching for the towels as she shivers in the chilly bathroom. I wrap one around her and pull her close, stealing long kisses for a moment until she swats my bottom and steps out of the shower. We dress quickly and hurry downstairs where I turn up the heat and start the fire again as Skye searches out breakfast food for us. 

"We need warmer clothes," she tells me as she stands near the fire after we have eaten and cleaned up. 

"Especially when it snows," I tell her. 

"Snows?" she asks. "In October?" 

"Maybe," I tell her. "But definitely in November." 

I see the doubt in her eyes and I reach for her hand, squeezing it in reassurance as she asks, "Do you think we'll be here that long?" 

"Maybe," I tell her. "We've got a pretty good plan. No one knows we're here..."

"Except Mr. and Mrs. Ledbetter," she interrupts. 

I nod. "But they think we're Jack and Barbara Allen." 

"Professor Allen," Skye adds, leaning in to kiss me before she holds up her left hand showing off her rings. "These are pretty by the way." 

I smile happily at her. "I'm glad you like them. Why don't we get dressed and go into the city. We need to get you a winter coat." 

"I hope it snows," she says, allowing me to pull her up into my arms. We pull on our light jackets and head out to the car, shivering as the cold air hits us once more. I crank up the heat in the car and Skye smiles my way as we drive back down the blacktop road through the hilly countryside of our new town. We drive back down the hill toward the river and turn right onto the main road. The town we have chosen has approximately four thousand people and is on the outskirts of a larger metropolis of around four hundred thousand people. It is large enough for us to easily get lost in but small enough that it hopefully won't be on Hydra's radar. During the time that Skye was setting up our new identities and making the arrangements to rent the farmhouse she used a sweeper to clean up her actual internet trail but left a few little hints within her search engine leading anyone who might be working against us in the wrong direction. Deleted searches in Minneapolis, Austin, and Seattle will hopefully keep anyone off our trail and our plan is to hide out in the farmhouse for as long as possible before we need to move again. 

It takes a while but we finally find the mall and a few hours later we are set for a Midwest winter. We're back at the farmhouse and Skye is in the kitchen once again, rolling out dough on the counter. 

"What are you making?" I ask as I come up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. 

"A pie," she tells me as she turns her head stealing a kiss before returning her attention back to the dough in front of her. "For the Ledbetter's." 

"I didn't know you could bake," I say. "Is there anything I can do to help?" 

"Sure," Skye tells me. "You can start by peeling the apples." 

She shows me how and soon we are working side by side, Skye glancing my way from time to time to offer a suggestion or lead me on to the next task. 

"How many pies are we making?" I ask her as she starts spooning filling into multiple pie tins. 

"Just two," she answers. "One to take and one to keep." 

"You do love me," I tease and she grins and nods. 

"Where'd you learn to do this?" I ask, thinking of my own childhood for a moment and remembering that while my grandmother made us pies and cakes, my mother never did. She had maids and specialty stores to take care of that for her. I don't like where my thoughts have turned so I shake my head slightly and concentrate on Skye's hands as she pinches the edges of the dough together, sealing the top half to the bottom. 

"When I was seventeen I lived in the tiny garage apartment of one of the nicest ladies you'll ever meet. She taught me how to cook and bake." Her eyes turn wistful and she turns her attention to the oven, opening the door and placing first one pie and then the second side by side on the rack. 

"Where was that?" I ask as I realize not for the first time that I don't know much about this girl I am in love with. 

"Burbank," Skye answers, closing the oven door and crossing the kitchen to the sink. She starts running the water and as she washes I find a dish cloth and dry the bowls and utensils. 

"How long did you live there?" I ask. 

She is quiet for a moment and I wonder if I am intruding into an area that she would rather not talk about but just as I am about to apologize for pushing she says, "About six months. She broke her hip and her kids moved her into a nursing home."

"I'm sorry," I tell her, hearing the sadness in her voice. 

Her eyes meet mine and I see that the lady meant something to her. I lean over and press a kiss to her forehead before changing the subject. "Should we run over Jack and Barbara Allen's history one more time?" 

"Sure," Skye answers, pulling the plug and draining the water as I dry the last dish and put it away.

***

"I can't believe how cold it is," Skye says as we open the door at the end of the evening. She pulls the knit hat and scarf off and places them on the coat rack along with her jacket.

I laugh as I place mine next to hers and pull her farther into the house. Mrs. Ledbetter has sent home a Tupperware bowl full of leftover pot roast with potatoes and carrots and I'm looking forward to having seconds tomorrow. 

"I had a nice time," she tells me as she wraps an arm around my waist. 

"Me too," I agree. "Want me to start a fire?" 

"Yes please," Skye answers, grabbing the food and taking it to the refrigerator. "I'm going to change into pajamas." 

I wiggle my eyebrows at her and she laughs before heading upstairs. A few moments later she returns wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and a long sleeved t-shirt. She grabs a blanket from the back of the sofa and curls up next to me as I turn on the television, handing her the remote afterwards. Skye flips through the channels until she finds a comedy and glances at me to see if it's okay. When I nod yes, she sets the remote down and lays her head on my shoulder. We sit in companionable silence for awhile watching until Skye sits up and says, "Her name was Mrs. Baxter."

I glance at her curiously and she adds, "The woman who taught me to bake. She took me in off the streets when no one else would. Her kids weren't too happy about it." 

"Did you run away from the orphanage?" I ask, putting two and two together. 

"Multiple times," she answers. "They usually found me and probably would have again if Mrs. Baxter hadn't seen me going through the garbage behind one of the diners where she sold her pies. When she saw me I thought she was going to call the police, but instead she just invited me inside the diner and bought me lunch." 

"That was nice of her," I say, squeezing Skye's hand reassuringly. 

"Yeah it was. She was the first person who looked at me like I wasn't something to be thrown away. I wasn't just another kid in the system to her." Skye stares at the television for a moment but I know she's still thinking of Mrs. Baxter. "She was the first person to believe in me." 

"Well she was a smart lady then," I tell her. 

"We talked for hours and she trusted me enough to bring me back to her house. Her kids thought I would steal her blind but I never took anything from her. She taught me to bake and I helped her with her pies. She made me take G.E.D. courses and I got my diploma. She was the closest thing to family I'd ever had." 

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close to me as I think about how unfair life is. Skye and I have led very different lives but through it all our experiences were basically the same. She's spent her entire childhood being shuffled around from place to place, never feeling wanted, never knowing what a home was, what being part of a family would be like. I spent my entire childhood living a life of privilege, being given every opportunity I could ask for, all the while keeping the secrets of my family. Like Skye I never felt wanted in my home. My older brother made sure that my siblings and I were punished if we spoke out about the things he did. He manipulated my parents and they believed him. They were as non-involved as parents could be, often away in Washington while leaving their children to be raised by nannies who looked the other way whenever Christian came after me or my brother. Christian's abuse was worse than anything my parents could have ever dished out. He had little ways of making me pay if I didn't do exactly what he said and eventually he convinced Thomas that I enjoyed hurting him. The best thing he ever did for me was to get my parents to send me away to military school. I tell all of this to Skye, unloading my burden onto her shoulders and it feels good to finally be completely honest with her. I don't want there to be any secrets between us ever again. Her hand is tight in mine, her head resting on my shoulder, the sound off on the television as I relive it all. She flinches at Garrett's name and I can't blame her but I keep talking. Telling her how he saved me. How he manipulated me. How he used me to get everything he wanted, not caring that he would destroy me in the process. I tell her about how many times I stood outside her bunk, outside Coulson's office, desperate to tell them who I really was, but I was a good Hydra soldier and followed Garrett's orders. I tell her once again how sorry I am that he allowed Ian Quinn to shoot her. I lay my heart out to her, for better or for worse, and hope she will understand. 

When I am done silence envelopes the room. It seems like hours have passed and the flames in the hearth are dying in golden brown embers as the cold seeps farther into the room. She hasn't looked at me or said a word since I started talking but finally she looks up and for once I can't read her face. When she lets go of my hand I think I've ruined everything but she reaches up, her fingers wiping the wetness from my cheeks. I didn't even realize I'd been crying. Couldn't even tell you when it started, but she moves slowly, one leg shifting over mine as she settles into my lap, pulling the blanket around the both of us. She cups my face, her thumbs slowly caressing the tears away and I have to ask, "Do you believe me?" 

I'd told her that I would never lie to her again and tonight is the true test of our relationship. Every last horrible word out of my mouth could easily turn Skye against me again. I've reminded her of just how disgusting of a human being I really am and I'm holding my breath as I wait for her answer. There are tears in her eyes too as she nods and says, "Yes." 

She leans close to me, kissing my cheeks before finding my lips and I sigh in relief as I slide my hands into her hair. She believes me. My hands slide down to her waist, holding her in place as the need I have for her burns bright. When she finally pulls back from me I see in her eyes how much she wants me too. She leans in close and places her lips right next to my ear as she whispers, "Let's go upstairs."

***


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains spoilers to _The Writing on the Wall._ If you haven't seen that episode yet, you may want to watch that first. 
> 
> Thanks again for all the comments and kudos. It is very much appreciated!

The crisp morning air gives way to the warming sun lighting the rolling prairie land in golden hues as we wander along the property of our temporary home. A tiny creek bubbles along the lowlands, snaking and curving into dips and valleys, around boulders and smaller rocks buried in the silt bottom. We stroll hand in hand over the yellowing grass from the back porch of the little farmhouse and down toward one of the three red barns that sits on the grounds. It is the biggest and sits farthest from the two lane country road. Behind it are the now plowed fields that used to contain oversized stalks of feed corn. I imagine the place in summer, all lush green plants with amber silk top hats and for a moment I wish we could stay long enough to see it. I'm tired of running and I've seen enough death and destruction to last a lifetime. Before Skye I never even considered anything other than the cards I'd been dealt. I was great at being a specialist. Being a spy. Getting the job done alone. But now I want a new hand. A chance to make things right with her for good. To have a life together not built out of necessity but out of a mutual need and want to be with each other.

"The trees are beautiful," Skye says as she lets go of my hand hopping across the creek at its shortest distance and I have to agree. There are plenty of fallen leaves cracking under our feet but the trees are filled with orange, yellow and brown ones still clinging desperately to life on their branches. She stops as we near one of the larger oak trees and asks, "Have you ever climbed a tree?"

"Sure," I answer trying not to think too hard about the times Thomas and I used to climb trees to hide from Christian. Sometimes we would see who could climb the highest and even though I knew it was me, I always stopped just when my little brother made it to a spot above me. I wonder briefly if he ever thinks back to those days and knows that I did the best that I could for him. Skye watches me and I don't want her to know where my thoughts are at the moment so I smile and ask, "Do you want to climb it?"

"It's kind of stupid," she says in answer but I see the light in her eyes at the prospect of doing something she has never done before.

"Nah," I answer reaching for the first branch. Using the trunk of the tree I press one foot against it and swing my leg up onto the branch before hooking the other one around the other side. She laughs as I hang upside down for a moment before pulling myself around it and nestling in the crook of the tree. "See. It's easy."

"Okay," Skye agrees and copies my movements. For a moment I don't know if she has the strength to pull herself up but she surprises me and soon she is sitting facing me on the branch.

"Wanna go higher?" I ask.

"No," she replies, inching her way closer to me. Her eyes reflect her nervousness and when she gets close enough she places her hands on my thighs to steady herself. The wind blows lightly around us and I can't help but think how beautiful she is even bundled up in her jacket, her dark hair peeking out of a knit hat in twin braids. As she sees me staring at her I watch a smile cross her face. She leans in and kisses me quickly before turning to look around at the landscape before us. "It's so peaceful."

I nod and we sit in silence watching the occasional bird flying by as clouds slowly build to the west. A truck appears on the blacktop and I recognize it as Henry Ledbetter's. He slows and turns into the gravel driveway coming to a stop near the barn closest to the road. We watch as he gets out and disappears inside the barn. Briefly I wonder what the life of a farmer is like. Henry owns almost all the land we can see on either side of the road. This house was his grandfather's and the place he lives now with his wife Laura was his parents' place before he took it all over.

We sit in companionable silence for several minutes before Skye carefully climbs back out of the tree. I jump down beside her and slip my hand back in hers as we continue our exploration.

***

Skye is laying on the wooden deck at the back of the farmhouse, settled on her back as several small kittens crawl over her. She is flicking the end of her braid at a gray one and he bats it playfully, first one paw and then the other. The mother cat has been winding her scrawny body around my legs and purring as she does so I reach down a hand to pet her as Henry approaches.

"Hey," he says in greeting. As he walks up the steps of the wooden deck I see his eyes on Skye and the smile that plays across his lips. He and his wife have taken an instant liking to her and the feeling is mutual. "I see Barbara's found our secret weapon to keeping young folk on the farm."

Skye looks over at him and smiles in answer as an orange tabby kitten pounces on her hand. "They are very cute."

He settles into the chair beside me and I offer him a glass of lemonade as Skye sits up, holding one of the kittens close as she strokes it's tiny head. Henry glances at each of us and asks, "Ya bored yet? Ready to head back to the big city?"

Skye shakes her head and says, "I love it here. It's very peaceful."

"Yes it is," I agree.

"Well it'll be real peaceful once the first big snow comes. You got the right tires on that little car of yours?"

"I'm not sure," I tell him so he motions me up out of the chair to look it over.

I watch as he walks around the car and says, "They'll do. You need more weight in the trunk though. Next time you're down to the grocery store pick up a big bag of kitty litter and throw it in there. Make sure you stock up on food too. It ain't fun getting down the hill in bad weather and the weatherman says it's gonna be a bad winter."

Skye glances at me with concern but I just nod and thank Henry for the reminder.

"There's a dance going on down at the civic center if you are bored later tonight. The Mrs. and I are heading down that way. You two would probably be the youngest ones there but the music is good." Henry gives me directions and then says goodbye, heading back to his truck and a moment later dust is kicking up around the tires as he backs down the driveway.

Skye stands beside me holding the gray kitten still. The mother cat winds herself around Skye's legs and meows insistently until she finally puts the baby on the ground and then they race off for one of the barns. "You think they'll be okay?"

"Yeah," I answer reaching for her hand. The wind is picking up as the sun dips toward the horizon and even though the temperature is warm by Iowa standards, I know she is cold. "C'mon Mrs. Allen."

***

"Is this a good idea?" Skye asks as we park the car along the riverfront. The river itself is as black as the night and we barely notice the barge floating south. The civic center is a quaint brick building at the edge of the shopping district and music ebbs and flows as the door opens and closes. Lots of older couples are heading in and I reach for Skye's hand as I think about the question she's just asked. Is it possible that someone will see us and our cover will be blown? I've calculated the odds over and over and I think we will be okay but I don't know for certain. All I do know is that we need to sell our story as Jack and Barbara Allen from Los Angeles so that no one questions why we are really here.

"It will be fine," I answer finally. I glance over at her and smile happily as I take in her appearance. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks," she replies, snuggling in close to me as I wrap an arm around her. Together we walk toward the door and when we pull it open we are greeted by warmth and country music. I take a minute to help her out of her coat and hang it up along with the others, adding mine a moment later as well. When we step out of the foyer and into the main room I see that Henry wasn't kidding. The room is filled with people easily thirty years older than us and we get a few polite stares as we stand there awkwardly until Laura spots us.

"You came!" she says as she approaches, hugging first Skye and then me. "I'm so glad."

Laura leads us over to a table and introduces us to her friends. We settle into chairs and make small talk with some of the nicest people I think I've ever met. Skye seems right at home with them especially when Laura brings up how good her apple pie was at dinner the night before. As the women compare recipes the men talk sports and I kick back and take it all in.

"Jack," Henry calls my name as he leans forward to be heard over the music. "Are you for the 49ers or the Chargers?"

"Neither," I tell him as I remember what my back story is. "I'm a Giants fan."

Henry laughs as if he feels my pain. I've seen the Chicago Bears license plate holder on his truck so we compare how badly our teams are doing this year. After several minutes he changes the subject. "So what do you teach?"

"History," I answer.

"And you teach at UCLA?"

"Yes," I tell him. "For ten years now. I decided to take a sabbatical from teaching to finish working on my novel."

"Ah," Henry says and I can't quite tell if he disapproves or not.

Laura and Skye are listening in and I can see that our story is piquing interest. When Laura asks how we met I smile at Skye before saying, "Mutual friends. They knew we had a lot in common."

"What do you do Barbara?" Henry asks.

"Boring stuff," Skye tells him. "I'm a systems analyst. I spend most of my day making sure the companies I work for don't have vulnerabilities in their software."

"Companies?" Laura asks.

"Yes," Skye tells her. "I work under contract for several businesses. Usually they have specific needs only for a certain timeframe so I end up being the less expensive option for the company as opposed to keeping a full time position filled."

"Sounds complicated," Henry replies but he smiles genuinely at her and Skye nods.

"It can be. But all I need is an Internet connection and I can work anywhere."

The music changes and Henry leans in and asks Laura to dance. When she nods he turns to us and says, "Come join the old folks."

When I reach for Skye's hand she slides it into mine and squeezes lightly as I pull her to her feet. We follow Henry and Laura to the floor and I place a hand around her waist holding her close to me. She leans in close to me and when our eyes meet I see the slight smile crossing her face. Pressing my face close to her ear I say, "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

A slight blush blooms across her cheeks as she says, "Yes but you can say it again."

I laugh and so does she as we move in time to the music. Several songs pass before we head back to the table and Henry and Laura are already sitting down. I pull back a chair for Skye but Henry asks if she would honor him with one dance and a glance toward Laura says she approves so I let go of her hand and let him lead her away. I settle in next to Laura and we watch as Henry respectfully puts a hand on Skye's waist as the other closes around her hand and soon he is teaching her the steps to a new country dance. They both laugh as Skye has trouble figuring out the moves and as I glance toward Laura I see a wistful expression cross her face.

When she sees me looking her way she says, "I think Barbara reminds him of our daughter."

I nod and ask, "Doesn't she live around here?"

Laura frowns and shakes her head. "She died in a car accident when she was sixteen."

"I'm sorry," I reply, my heart going out to these nice people.

"How old is Barbara?" Laura's eyes haven't left Skye and Henry as they laugh on the dance floor.

"Twenty seven," I lie, knowing that is what Barbara Allen's driver's license says.

Laura nods absently. "April would have been thirty this year. Sometimes it's hard to believe she's been gone so long."

I don't know what to say to her but I place a hand comfortingly over hers and she smiles sadly. The music ends and Skye and Henry walk back toward us still laughing at her lack of dance skills.

"I hope I didn't hurt your feet," Skye says as she settles next to me.

"Steel-toed boots," Henry jokes as Laura yawns suddenly. It's hard to believe we've already spent several hours here and it looks like the place is getting ready to close up for the evening.

"Thanks for inviting us," I say as we stand and head toward the foyer where our coats are.

"Come back again next month," Henry says. "We gotta teach this city girl how to dance proper."

We laugh but something in the tone of his voice or maybe the words themselves seem to remind Skye of something and her eyes darken slightly. My hand brushes hers and she jerks it back from me as if she's been shocked. Luckily Henry and Laura don't seem to notice and I reach for Skye's coat holding it for her as she slips her hands into the sleeves. We say goodbye to the Ledbetter's and hurry to the car as the wind whips off the river around us. I start the car, cranking the heater and direct us back up the hill toward home. She is quiet as I drive and I glance over toward her but in the dark I can't see her face. "Skye? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Fine." Her voice is far away as if she isn't really with me and I start to worry that whatever happened to her earlier is starting again. When we get to the farmhouse Skye walks in ahead of me and shrugs off her jacket, hanging it in the hallway before she says, "I'm going to take a shower."

"Okay," I answer, watching her walk up the stairs before going into the family room. It's cold so I place some logs in the fireplace and get a nice blaze going before kicking back and watching some television. I hear the shower running and wonder again what is going on with her. Fifteen minutes later there is a creak on the stairs and Skye appears by my side, laptop in hand.

"Is everything okay?" I ask again as she sits down and boots up her computer.

"Fine," Skye responds. "I just need to look at something."

"Okay," I tell her, getting up. "I'm going to shower."

She nods, lost in whatever has captured her attention. Slowly I head up the stairs and into the bathroom. Turning on the shower I hurry through the motions before the water chills. When I get out I notice that the mirror over the sink has steamed up slightly and my heart skips as I see the alien writing showing through. I know immediately that this is Skye's handiwork and I'm suddenly scared for her. I dress quickly, yanking on my t-shirt as I rush down the stairs.

"Skye," I say anxiously as I see her typing furiously on her laptop.

When she glances up her eyes are hard to read but she says, "I need to call Coulson."

"What?" I ask. "Why?"

"It's not a map," she answers cryptically. "Well not exactly. I need the phone."

"Okay," I reply heading into the kitchen and opening one of the drawers where I've stashed several of our prepaid cell phones. I grab one and head back to her, settling into the couch next to her and glancing at the screen. When I do I see the alien writing all across her screen. She's somehow managed to manipulate it in a program and with her mouse she is pulling and stretching it out. As it expands she twists the image and suddenly it becomes three dimensional and I see it too.

"Skye." My eyes are wide as she nods her head absently, reaching for the phone. She punches in Coulson's number and waits a moment.

"It's me," she says. "Are you free to talk?"

She listens for a moment and then says, "It's not a map. Not exactly. It's a city. I'm sending you a password protected file."

Her free hand moves quickly across the keys of the laptop and then she reaches for the mouse again, opening an email browser. I watch as she attaches the file and sends the computer generated city to him. A few moments go by and then she gives him the password.

"I know," she says finally. "Our brains saw it as flat but knew it wasn't right. We need to find this place."

They talk for several long minutes before Skye hangs up and looks at me as if the weight of the world has been lifted off her shoulders. She smiles and says, "It's a city."

"Where?" I ask as she shuts down her laptop.

"That's the next piece of the puzzle."

***


	15. Chapter 15

Fallen leaves litter the front lawn so Skye and I search out rakes piling them up in the middle of the yard. As we do a truck drives by slowly, both the driver and passenger looking our way and it disturbs me a little. From this distance I see they are dressed in flannel jackets and baseball caps but they could be undercover Hydra agents. Henry's truck comes the other way and the strangers wave toward him as they drive off. I breathe a sigh of relief and watch as Henry pulls into our driveway.

"Barbara," he calls out as hops down from the cab. "I've got something for you."

Skye grins at me and drops the rake, hurrying over to where Henry is releasing the tailgate on his truck. I walk behind her and smile as I see the big bag of cat food. Henry flings the bag over his shoulder and says, "You're going to spoil these things."

"I know," she answers happily and we head toward the barn closest to the house. With one hand Henry balances the bag and with the other he unlocks the padlock before handing her the key.

"This is the spare," he tells her. "Don't lose it."

"I won't," Skye reassures him. They enter the barn and I notice already that Henry has the heat running on a low setting, just enough to take the chill out of the air and to keep three kittens and their mother warm for the winter.

"You'll need to keep the lid on this tight," he adds. "We don't want unexpected creatures having a free meal."

He opens the Rubbermaid container and pours the food in it before going to a cabinet in the barn and pulling out a large bowl big enough for a St. Bernard. He waits as she scoops some into the bowl and sets it down next to a butter dish filled with water.

"You're responsible for feeding them," he tells her sternly but I see the twinkle in his eyes. As the weeks pass it is getting harder and harder to leave and we keep putting off the discussion for now. We watch as the cats come running at the sound of her calling them and Skye crouches down by the bowl, pointing them in the direction of the food.

Once they start eating she stands up again and says, "Thank you."

"I have something else for you," Henry tells her so we follow him back to the truck. He opens the passenger side door this time and pulls out a large pumpkin and hands it to me before reaching back in and grabbing a second, slightly smaller one.

"Pumpkins?" Skye asks.

"To carve," Henry replies. "We don't get many trick-or-treaters this way but I thought you might want to make Jack-o-lanterns."

Skye looks at him in confusion and Henry laughs. "Don't tell me. You've never carved a pumpkin."

Skye shakes her head no and Henry looks to me.

"A long time ago," I tell him, remembering days when Thomas and I would draw the designs on our carefully selected pumpkins and one of the grounds workers would carve them for us. We would both watch in awe as our designs came to life in front of our eyes but our joy was always short lived when Christian would smash them and blame me. Skye looks at me, her hand touching mine gently, pulling me back from the memory and I smile at her as Henry and I carry the pumpkins to the back deck.

"What do you want us to do with the leaves when we're done raking?" I ask him.

"You can just put them in the barrel by the garage. I'll put them in the compost pile later." Henry heads back toward his truck, waving goodbye as he climbs in and Skye and I return our attention to the leaves. It is such a beautiful October day, the sun shining, a light breeze blowing across the prairie and I can't help myself as I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

"Hey," she protests, but she is smiling as I press my lips to her for a moment. Skye kisses me back and I pull her down with me into the pile of autumn colored leaves. She laughs and lays on her back, staring at the clouds as they drift by slowly. The kittens have followed us out and the little gray one hops onto her chest and snuggles up against her chin. The other two pounce in the leaves, startling themselves at the crackling noise they make as tiny paws crush the dying foliage. When she glances my way I see the wistfulness in her eyes. "I wish we could stay here forever."

"Me too," I reply, reaching for her hand. We lay there for awhile as the kittens play until the sun starts to dip low along the horizon.

"We'd better get this done," I say finally, breaking the spell of this gorgeous afternoon as we get up and get back to work. The gray kitten seems unhappy that his comfortable bed has moved and keeps laying on Skye's feet whenever she stands still. Finally she stops, reaching down and picking the little cat up, putting her on her shoulder where it perches there, claws dug into her jacket.

"I think I saw a wheelbarrow in the barn," Skye says. "I'll take the kittens back and bring it out."

I watch as she walks away, the other kittens following along once she calls to them. She unlocks the door and disappears inside for a moment before returning with the wheelbarrow.

"You think the cats are going to stay?" I ask her once she approaches.

"Well I told them to," she replies and I can't decide if she is teasing or not. Together we scoop the leaves into the wheelbarrow and then I push it toward the barrel where we empty it.

"I'm tired," I say as we head back to the house, my arm around her. We have settled so easily into this life and while I know my feelings for her are real, as are hers for me, there is still something off putting about this lie we are living. Part of me thinks it is because we both really wish this was our life. I wonder what will happen once this thing with Hydra and her father is over. Will she go back to being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent? Will I go back to a cell in a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility? I don't know what the answers are and I know she doesn't either.

***

Halloween comes and goes, our Jack-o-lanterns glowing on the front step even though no one sees them but us. November brings chilly temperatures but still it doesn't snow. It's the one thing Skye wants to see before we leave and since we don't have a real plan, we continue to wait on Mother Nature to come through. It's getting closer to Thanksgiving now and the Ledbetter's have invited us to a parade and the Festival of Trees in downtown Davenport. It isn't easy to pull Skye away from her laptop - she has been searching for any resemblance of the alien city she can find - but when Laura calls Skye immediately closes her laptop. We are ready a few minutes later and when Henry pulls up in front of the house we hurry out to jump in their car. The wind is howling now, the cold biting at our faces, but Laura assures us it will be warmer when we are downtown watching the parade. It takes about forty minutes until we arrive at the River Center parking garage and once we are parked we follow the Ledbetter's out to the street. It is crowded with parade watchers and we find a spot along Third Street not far from the starting line. Henry and I set up the chairs and the girls sit down, Laura draping a blanket across both of their laps. While it is overcast and gray, the wind is not blowing here in front of the building and soon we hear the beginnings of the parade. A drummer boy is the first of many balloons in the parade. High school bands play holiday music and adorable floats drive by with cute little kids bundled up in winter wear waving happily. John Deere tractors with silver bows on the grills and American flags drive by while clowns play brass instruments. The parade ends with a bright red car modified to look like a sleigh. Santa Claus stands in the back, waving and calling out ho, ho, ho as he passes by.

"Which was your favorite?" Henry asks as we pack up the chairs.

"Rudolf," Skye answers. Her cheeks are red from the cold but I can tell she is happy we came today. "And of course, Santa in his pimp mobile."

We all laugh as we step back into the entrance way of the closed office building waiting on the parade goers to disburse so Henry and I can take the chairs back to the car. Laura wants to take us to the Festival of Trees but just as Henry and I are about to leave the girls to take the chairs back to the car, Skye grabs the sleeve of my coat.

"What is it?" I ask quietly as a look of fear crosses her face. I follow her gaze across the street and see the man watching her. He stares intently and I recognize him from a few weeks ago when the truck had slowed down outside the farmhouse. As the traffic clears he steps into the street and hurries toward us.

"Henry. Laura," he calls out but his eyes remain on Skye and I feel her tense beside me.

"Tommy," Laura replies, smiling happily as she sees him. "It's been too long. How are you?"

He shakes hands with Henry and hugs Laura for a quick moment, making small talk with our landlords, but even though they clearly know him, I'm still as on edge as Skye.

"Are these your new tenants?" he asks and Henry makes quick introductions.

"Yep. We're trying to convince them that farm life is much better than city life," he says. "Jack and Barbara Allen, this is Tom Barrow."

I reach out a hand reluctantly and shake his. It is firm and a little over the top and I wonder for a moment what this man's deal is. When he lets go he turns his attention to Skye and their eyes meet for a moment as he reaches for her hand. He holds it for too long and when she pulls back from him I see the instant dislike on her face.

"Sorry," Tom says, shoving his hands in his coat pocket. "You remind me of someone."

"Indeed," Henry replies and motions to me to give up the folding chairs I have over my shoulder. "Why don't you three go on ahead and Tom will help me load these in the car."

"Nice to meet you," he says.

I just nod and Skye looks away, clearly upset by the interaction. As we walk toward the River Center Laura says, "Tommy was April's boyfriend. He has a lot of guilt from the car accident."

She glances over to Skye and adds, "You really do look like her. I'm sorry if he made you uncomfortable."

"It's fine," Skye answers, sliding an arm around my waist. She's still not used to these cold temperatures and the wind has started to blow harder. We duck inside the events hall and find a place to check our coats while we wait for Henry. When he finally appears in the doorway fifteen minutes later we head into the venue and I am amazed by all the incredibly beautiful trees. Skye and I walk hand in hand admiring the decorations and enjoying the Christmas music that plays overhead. When we've finally wandered through the last of the aisles Henry directs us up the stairs and across the sky bridge to the upscale hotel on the other side of the street. Once there we follow him down to the basement where we are surprised to find a bowling alley. There are only a few lanes but the place is newly renovated and there is a full bar as well. The four of us select shoes and bowling balls and start the first game. Skye goes first and I watch as she lets the ball go in perfect form and all the pins go down. My astonishment must plainly be reflected in my face and she laughs as she comes back to sit by me.

"Lucky strike," I tease, placing an arm around her shoulders. She shrugs as if to say, maybe, but when it is her turn again, she knocks down all the pins.

"Good thing we didn't bet, Momma," Henry says to Laura and while I smile outwardly at his words, I worry that they are getting too attached to her. Knowing what happened to their daughter makes me more aware of the fact that our lies are going to hurt them some day.

"You should see me play pool," Skye jokes when she comes back from bowling her third strike.

After two games we are all tired and hungry so we head back to the River Center to collect our coats and then to a nearby restaurant for a lovely dinner before heading home again.

"You're coming Thursday right?" Laura asks as I hold the door open for Skye.

"Yes," she tells her. "You really only want me to bring a pie?"

"Apple," Henry insists from the driver's seat. "You can bring as many as you want."

"One," Laura says. "Or I'm going to have to let his pants out again."

"Again?!" Henry snaps, but I hear the teasing lilt in his voice as Skye exits the vehicle. "Woman, my weight is a compliment to your good cooking."

We all laugh and wave goodbye before heading into the house.

"It's cold," Skye says as she rubs her hands over her arms. "I'm going to feed the kittens before it gets dark."

"Want me to come with you?" I ask.

"No," Skye tells me. "Can you start a fire? I'll be right back."

"Sure," I answer, shrugging out of my jacket and hanging it on a peg in the hallway as she steps back out onto the porch. The house is dark so I switch on some lights as I head into the family room. There is enough wood for tonight's fire on the rack next to the fireplace so I pile it into the hearth and reach for the matches and a scrap of newspaper. Once the wood catches I place the screen in front of the flames and sit back for a moment enjoying the warmth. I know I need to refill the rack with another cord of wood so I hop up and hurry out the back door, collecting what I need in a hurry and returning to the house to replace what I've used.

"Skye," I call out, assuming she's come in while I was outside. When there is no answer I start for the front door, noticing right away that the lock hasn't been turned and her jacket is not next to mine. My heart pounds anxiously as I grab my coat, yanking it on without bothering to zip it up. I know there is a good chance she is just playing with the kittens but it is getting dark outside and I don't like the idea of not knowing for sure. Stepping outside the wind blows fiercely along the porch and I am forced to take a moment to bundle up. The sun is barely on the horizon now, night coming on in full force as I notice the truck in driveway. I fight the urge to call her name as I run full force toward the barn where the kitties live. Tom Barrow is standing in the doorway, blocking Skye's escape and I see her relief as I step into her sight.

"Hey," he says casually and I resist the urge to knock him out right this second. "I was just apologizing to Barbara. I didn't mean to freak her out at the parade."

"Well that's nice of you," I answer and my eyes meet Skye's as I add, "Are the kittens fed?"

"Yes," she tells me and that one word is filled with anxiety. Apology or not, there is something not right about this guy.

"Well Tom," I say as I push past him and reach for her hand. "We're locking up for the night. Thanks for stopping by."

Skye steps by him and waits until he removes himself from the entrance before closing and locking the barn door. When she is done I put my arm around her and we head back to the house, going inside and locking the door. I wait at the window until he finally gets in his truck, starts it and backs down the driveway. He allows it to idle along the side of the road for several minutes and just when I think we are really going to have a problem he puts it in gear and drives away. His tail lights fade over a hill and I finally let out a breath as Skye wraps an arm around my waist.

"Are you okay?" I ask as she lays her head against my chest.

"I'm fine," she tells me. "Thanks for coming out though. I was afraid I was going to have to kick his ass."

I laugh then, all the tension leaving me in that one sentence and I look down at her as she grins up at me, laughing too.

"He wouldn't have liked you so much then, would he?" I tell her. I can only imagine the moves that May's taught her and I have no doubt that the guy would have been a bloody mess had Skye been forced to defend herself. I help her out of her coat and add, "Come on Ninja Girl. Let's get warm by the fire."

***


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all the kudos and comments. This chapter is short but there are still two more to post before you are all caught up to what I've written so far.

Flames crackle happily in the fireplace as the Thanksgiving Day Parade plays on the television. The aroma of cinnamon and apples wafts in from the kitchen and Skye looks more beautiful than ever, a red striped apron protecting the long sleeved brown dress she wears. Chocolate colored tights cover her legs which are tucked into dark boots. Her hair is braided and when she catches me staring at her, a slight smile crosses her face. The timer goes off on the oven and a moment later two apple pies are cooling on the counter.

"I'm going to gain fifteen pounds today," I say, getting up to wrap my arms around her. She's been up for hours, preparing the pies, making a coffee cake for us, and again I'm struck by the wish that this was our real life.

"You look handsome," she says, looking up at me with those gorgeous eyes that always make me want to forget everything but her. I am wearing khaki pants and a sweater that matches her dress and I know we make a good looking couple.

Skye slips her hand into mine and we settle on the couch to finish watching the parade. When it is over I put out the fire while Skye wraps the pie in foil and we head for the front door. I hold the pie while she puts on her jacket and we step out into the chilly November day.

"Hello," Laura says as she opens the door for us once we arrive at the Ledbetter's house. Their dining room table is already set for eight and as we follow her into their family room we see a couple we met at the dance when we first came to town and another couple we don't know. The woman looks amazingly like Laura though, so I can guess that this is her sister. Introductions are made and Laura drags Skye off to the kitchen with the women as the men settle around the television.

"The Bears game is on soon," Henry says and I nod, joining in the conversation as I can. Laura calls us to the dinner table and as I settle in next to Skye, I realize it has been forever since I've been a part of someone's life in a tangible way. We may be living here under different pretenses but I still can't fight the feeling that Skye and I are meant to be together forever and I really hope she feels the same way.

"Thank you all for coming today," Laura says after Henry leads us in prayer. "We are very lucky to have such good family and friends."

As each person goes around the room and says out loud what they are thankful for, I anxiously await Skye's turn and then mine. She goes first, reaching for my hand saying, "I'm thankful that Laura and Henry have so graciously let us into their lives without really knowing us. You've shown us what true friendship is all about. I'm also thankful to this amazing man who sits beside me. He saves my life in little ways every day and I love him more than ever."

Her eyes meet mine and I smile happily at her as I say, "Well I never like to go against my wife, especially when she's saying such sweet things about me, but all joking aside, she is the one that saved me. She makes me want to be a better person. I'm thankful every day that she looks past my flaws because there are plenty of them, and continues to believe in me. I'm also thankful for the beautiful house that Henry and Laura have so kindly let us rent as we explore this new chapter of our lives. It's been an experience I don't think either of us will ever forget."

Dinner is amazing and the company even better and soon the ladies are cleaning up while I follow the men back to the family room. Their team isn't doing so well this year but at least they manage to keep it close up to halftime and during the break Skye appears with a large piece of her apple pie with whipped cream on top, handing it over to Henry. 

"You get the first piece," she tells him and he beams at her as he takes it. She waits expectantly while he pushes the fork through the crust and into the soft apple filling and takes his first bite. 

"Best pie ever," he whispers, winking at Skye. "But don't tell Laura I said that. I'll deny it." 

"Except I already heard you," Laura says as she walks into the room with some coffee for him. Her voice sounds fierce but her eyes sparkle with mischief. "You're busted." 

"Sorry Momma," he says, placing another bite of pie in his mouth. 

Skye laughs before turning her attention to me. "Apple or pumpkin?" 

"Both?" I question, wiggling my eyebrows at her. "With some of Laura's homemade whipped cream on top?" 

"Oink," Skye replies jokingly and I reach for her hand for a moment. 

"Hey," I tell her. "If loving pie is wrong, I don't want to be right." 

She shakes her head in mock disgust and disappears into the kitchen as the other wives bring pie to their husbands and a few minutes later Skye is back with two decent sized slices of pie on one plate. 

"Really?" I ask as I look at how much dessert is sitting there for me. 

"I brought two forks," she answers, settling beside me on the couch where we share bites from both of the pies. 

"These are both really good," I say and she nods. "I'm still glad that there's another pie at home just for me." 

Her eyes meet mine and she smiles again making my heart melt once more. Afterwards we sit back and relax, listening to Laura and her sister tell stories about their childhood while Henry and the others add bits and pieces here and there and it is obvious that they have all known each other forever. It must be nice to be this entwined in the lives of others. To have a history with someone that has lasted almost a lifetime. It makes me long for a different childhood and I see Skye's face is wistful too. We've both missed out on so much. One with a family that didn't care and one without a family she could call her own. Our lives are two sides of the same coin and while that coin has reflected pain and heartache in our pasts, I'm hopeful that someday things will be different for us.

***


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers to _The Things We Bury_ are in this chapter. If you haven't seen that episode you may want to watch that first.
> 
> Also there is some minor violence in this chapter.

"Grant," Skye whispers in my ear as I slowly wake from a dream I don't remember. She is sitting on the bed leaning over me and when I finally open my eyes she is grinning from ear to ear. "It's snowing!"

Her excitement is contagious and I know she wants me to get up so I do, dressing quickly and following her down the stairs where we bundle up in coats, hats and gloves before shoving our feet into boots and pulling open the front door. The sky is gray, the sun a faded crimson ball attempting and failing to peek through the clouds as day breaks on the horizon. Sure enough though, white flurries are in the air and a dusting of it litters the ground. Skye tips her head back, allowing the tiny flakes to drift over her and little white specks stick in her hair and eyelashes. There is something so innocent about how she stands there, pure bliss reflected on her face, as she enjoys her first snowfall. When she opens her eyes and catches me staring at her she isn't even self-conscious about it. Instead Skye just grins, spinning around before finally dropping down into the growing accumulation.

"How do I make a snow angel?" she asks and I tell her even though there really isn't enough to make it terribly noticeable. She moves her legs and arms back and forth and then reaches for my hand, waiting for me to help her up. When I do she surveys her handiwork and says, "Not bad."

She bends down and picks up a handful and I watch her warily, knowing that if it is wet enough to stick together that I am probably in trouble. Instead Skye drops to her knees and pushes enough snow together to make the tiniest snowman. As she works on it I search out some small twigs and rocks, bringing them to her so she can give him some life, which she promptly does.

"Can we build a bigger one later?" Skye asks as she continues to fiddle with a handful of snow.

"Sure," I answer and as I do I see the look of mischief sparkling in her eyes and a moment later a wimpy snowball hits me square in the chest. Her laughter echoes across the hills and as I bend down to scoop up some snow of my own, Skye gets up and takes off running toward the back of the house. I grab enough snow to get it to pack together and hurry after her, stopping just long enough to lob it her way. It hits the back of her coat, shattering apart and dripping slowly down her shoulders.

"Not nice," she says when she turns around, her hands on her hips as she stares at me in mock anger.

I approach her cautiously, knowing my face is probably giving away my intentions. I can feel the smile that is wide on my face and when I reach for her Skye's arms instantly go around my neck. Her fingers press gently into the nape of my neck as she tips my head down toward hers. I need no encouragement as my lips press to hers, my hands spanning her slim hips, holding her close to me. When we finally part our breath appears before us and I say, "Your nose is cold."

She slips her gloved hand into mine and says, "I guess you need to warm me up."

"Challenge accepted," I reply, pulling her along with me back toward the front of the house. When we get inside Skye's hands make quick work of her zipper, yanking her jacket off and barely getting it onto the hook before turning her attention to me. Her hands grip the edges of my coat, pushing them back from my shoulders as she stands on her toes to search out my lips again. The jacket falls to the ground forgotten as my hands slide back around her waist and I step closer to her, wanting no space between us. This need I have for her burns deep inside of me and I can't help but reach for her, lifting her off the floor and as Skye's legs wrap around my waist I'm desperate to remove all of these layers separating her soft skin from mine. Her mouth stays on mine, her fingers buried in my hair as I carefully maneuver us up the stairs. When we get to the room I lower her to the bed, stopping only long enough to pull my sweater over my head as she does the same and soon we are kissing again. Briefly I wonder if it will always be like this with her. I can't imagine ever not wanting her like this, not having her in my life, losing her. It scares me more than I want to admit and that fear is what drives me forward, wanting to make every moment count. Her kisses pull me back from my fears, her hands soft and warm on my skin and soon I forget about everything but Skye.

***

It's late afternoon when I come inside from shoveling the sidewalk and driveway. Skye is bundled up in a pair of sweatpants and a blue flannel shirt, her feet tucked into heavy wool socks as she types away on her laptop. Flames crackle and spit in the fireplace warming the family room. She looks up distractedly when I enter and smiles at me. "The weatherman said more snow is coming."

"I should probably run to the store then," I tell her. "We could used a few things in case we get snowed in."

"Okay," she replies, not looking up from her computer. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No," I answer. She looks warm and is obviously engrossed in the search for the alien city. "I'll be back soon."

"Thanks," Skye says, motioning me over with one finger. When I get to her she smiles again so I lean down and kiss her. One hand cups my face, her lips a promise of things to come later and I almost forget why I am leaving her. She grins when I sigh contentedly and I open my eyes to look at her.

"The things you do to me," I whisper before pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "I won't be long."

I walk away before I can't anymore, ready to get this errand over with. Pulling my hat and gloves on I zip my coat up and head out into the cold once more, locking the door behind me. The snow is several inches high on the ground but it has stopped coming down from the sky for now. As I walk past the larger snowman we finally built I smile at it, thinking of her once again. There are so many little things like this that she has missed out on over the years and I really want to make sure she gets a chance to experience it all. I want to make up for her lost childhood. For my ruined one. Experiencing something as simple as a first snowfall, a snowman, carving a pumpkin, those things have all become so much more to me now that I am sharing it with her. Seeing her eyes light up, hearing her laughter, she has become my whole world.

I get in the car and blast the heat, allowing the engine to warm up before backing down the driveway. The tires spin unexpectedly on the blacktop and I know I need to take it slow as I head into town. The little country road is quiet and once I get into the outskirts of town there isn't much more traffic there either. Carefully I head down the steep hill, one foot pumping the brakes slightly in case there is hidden ice, but I make it down without issue. Turning right onto the two lane highway I get up to speed quickly until I get to the local grocery store. It's parking lot overlooks the river and I glance out at the gray afternoon, the water choppy and unsettled. There is definitely a storm coming and judging by the amount of vehicles around me, I can tell I'm not the only one who had the same idea. I hurry into the store and out of the cold, grabbing a cart and selecting the things we need as quickly as possible. After checking out, I place everything in the trunk of the car and head back home. Snow is falling lightly again making the road slick and I worry for a moment that the car won't make it up the hill, but I give it enough gas to keep the wheels moving and surprisingly they don't spin at all. Once I'm at the top I turn the radio up a little, enjoying the Christmas music that is playing on one of the local stations. A few minutes later I am cresting the tiny hill where I can finally see the farmhouse. It is beautiful with the snow falling all around but as I survey the property something is amiss. Cars are in the driveway. Specifically the truck belonging to Tom Barrow and another unknown vehicle. Giving my car as much gas as I dare, I hurry toward the house, fish tailing as I pull off the slick blacktop. I park behind the truck and reach for the glove compartment, opening it and pulling out my gun. Flipping the safety off I exit the vehicle, noticing that the driver's side door to the truck is open. Tom Barrow lies across the bench seat, blood clearly seeping from his forehead, his eyes glassed over in death. On the floor board is a flyer and I see a photo of Skye on it with the words, _Missing and Endangered_ , and my heart sinks. The other car clearly belongs to Hydra operatives and I hurry toward the house noticing that the front door is ajar and hanging off its hinges. As I step on to the porch the telltale squeak of the aged floorboards announces my presence and I cringe at the warning it gives to anyone who is inside. Peeking around the door jamb the living room appears empty so I sweep the front of the house before checking the family room. Skye's laptop is overturned and the back door is slightly open. A trail leads away from the house toward the farthest of the three barns and as I step outside I hear the sound of another vehicle pulling up in the driveway. I hurry along the side of the house until I can see who's here and I'm surprised to see Henry's truck stopping behind my car. He gets out, rifle in hand as he surveys the situation.

"Henry," I call out quietly, my gun at the ready just in case.

"What the hell is going on here?" he asks as he glances over toward his friend's truck. "I heard shots and came to check it out."

He glances into the truck and sees Tom Barrow's body, shock registering on his face as he says, "Did you do this?"

"No," I tell him. "But whoever did is still here."

"Where's Barbara?"

"I think she went toward the back barn," I tell him. Together we head for it and I note three distinct sets of prints in the snow drifts. We are sitting ducks to anyone who might want to take a shot at us from the barn but we make it there without incident.

The door is open slightly and Henry stops, reaching down to collect the destroyed metal of the padlock. It looks like nothing more than a twisted hunk of silver in his hand, but I notice the slim indentations and know instinctively that Skye did this in her hurry to escape whoever is after her. Screams come from inside and I yank on the handle in time for a dark haired man to come running past me, blood streaming from his eyes as his skin blisters and burns away. Henry and I watch in horror as he falls into the snow, a distinct hiss emanating from his body as he writhes in agony for several moments before going completely still. Using one foot I push his body over and find him dead, his face frozen in anguish. It is a disturbing sight and I know it will stay with me longer than it should. Carefully I lean on the barn door with one shoulder, peering inside where I see the other Hydra agent. He is dead as well and as I step farther into the barn I feel the sting of static electricity biting at my skin. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and finally I see her, huddled in a corner, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, her face buried into her knees.

"Skye," I call out knowing that our lives as Barbara and Jack Allen have just ended. "It's okay."

She doesn't move and the electric shock gets more powerful as I take a step toward her so I stop where I am, motioning for Henry to stay where he is. "You're safe now, Skye. Do you hear me?"

The air stills and she looks up, sobbing as she sees me. I hurry toward her, wrapping my arms around her as she shivers. Her sock covered feet are soaked through, as are the legs of her sweatpants, and I can barely make out bruises blooming on her cheek.

"It's okay," I tell her, scooping her up in my arms. She buries her face in my neck and as I carry her out of the barn I see the look on Henry's face. It is one of recognition that he's been lied to as well as fear over what's just occurred in his barn.

I can only imagine his thoughts going over what we've seen and trying to make sense of what's just happened, but regardless of what he might be thinking he says, "Get her to my truck."

I do as he says, crawling in beside her as he starts the truck, cranking the heat as he backs down the driveway and then puts the car in gear, heading towards his house.

"C'mon," Henry says, his voice low and a little angry as I lift Skye back into my arms once more. "She needs to get warm."

He opens the door and we follow him inside as he calls for Laura, telling her to bring blankets as I settle Skye on their couch. She shivers violently while I pull off the wet socks and Henry brings me another pair from their laundry room.

"What's going on?" Laura asks, her eyes wide as she assesses the situation.

Henry takes the blankets and tucks them around Skye before heading out of the room. Laura looks from Skye to me to the doorway where Henry is coming back from, a shotgun in his hand.

"Keep her warm," he says, handing Laura the gun. "Jack and I need to take care of something at the farm and then we all need to talk."

His eyes are pointedly on mine and I nod as I follow him out of the room. Henry reaches for the front door handle and says, "If anyone shows up here, shoot first and ask questions later."

"Henry!" Laura exclaims as he heads through the door. "What's wrong?"

"Just lock the door and sit tight, Laura. I'll be right back."

I follow him back to his truck, waiting for his questions, but Henry is quiet on the short drive back to the farmhouse. He parks behind my car and gets out without a word expecting me to follow him so I do. When he stops at his friend's truck he bends down to pull the flyer from the floor board. He reads it and looks up at me, his eyes cautious as he asks, "Is this true?"

"No," I answer honestly. "I'm trying to protect her from guys like that."

I motion to the back barn and he nods, seeming to accept my answer for now as he says, "We need to fix the door before the winds start to blow."

He slams the door shut on the truck and we head for the closest barn where he grabs tools and a sheet of plywood. While we are there I feed the cats knowing Skye will worry about them and then follow him to the house. It takes a few minutes to yank the door from the ruined hinges but soon Henry has it in place and from inside we nail the plywood into the door frame. I know that from the outside the house will look untouched and that is obviously what Henry is going for at the moment.

"Get your stuff and follow me back to the house," he says. It takes a few minutes to gather up what we own and the last thing I grab is Skye's laptop, shoving it into her backpack before following Henry out the back door. He motions for me to lock it and then we walk toward our vehicles again. When I pop the trunk I am momentarily surprised by the groceries still waiting there. Pushing them aside, I drop our bags in and follow Henry back to his house. He lets me park my car in their garage and helps me with the bags. When we get inside Skye is still where we left her, covered in thick blankets, while Laura sits beside her, rifle across her knees. She gets up when I approach and as I settle in beside Skye her hand reaches out from under the blanket searching out mine. When we touch her eyes finally meet mine and a mixture of self-loathing, fear and anguish are reflected in them. My free hand touches her cheek, reassuring her that I still love her and that she is not the monster she thinks she is.

"Talk," Henry demands and Skye flinches at the anger in his voice. I know this is the absolute last thing she wanted to happen but we both knew that getting close to them, letting them get close to us, that it was a possibility they would get hurt. I'm thankful that so far it is not a physical hurt at this moment but I know we can't stay here much longer. I've waited too long to reply, my eyes still on Skye's, and he adds, "You're obviously not Jack and Barbara Allen so why don't we start with that. Or do I just need to call the sheriff now?"

I glance up and see shock register on Laura's face and sigh, squeezing Skye's hand gently before I say, "No we are not. A really evil man is looking for her and if he finds us, he will kill me and torture her... or worse."

My thoughts involuntarily go back to the rumors I'd heard about Daniel Whitehall and his experiments on humans. They say in one case he was able to reverse the aging process by dissecting a woman found in China, and as I remember these whispered conversations and how I didn't believe any of it before, it all comes back to me. 1989. Austria. The Hunan Province. An old man becomes new again and a woman is butchered alive. These weren't fear tactics to keep young Hydra agents in line and the woman wasn't just any woman. My eyes dart to Skye's but she is looking away from me, staring at the ceiling, and for a moment I hope she never finds out the truth.

"I know you need to call the police," I say. "Just please give me five minutes to get her away from here."

"You're not going anywhere." Laura says adamantly and I'm fearful that she doesn't believe me. "There's a blizzard coming. You won't make it five miles before you'll be in white out conditions."

"I don't want to put you in anymore danger," I tell them.

"It's too late for that," Henry growls. "Besides... Barbara... Skye? She needs to rest."

"That's her real name?" Laura asks and I nod, knowing it is simpler than trying to explain her whole life to them. "What's yours?"

"Grant," I respond. Skye turns toward me and I smile reassuringly at her. "It's going to be okay."

***


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains spoilers for the episode _Ye Who Enter Here_ so if you haven't seen that episode you might want to watch it first. 
> 
> This is the last completed chapter I have so far. Everything else will be posted as I finish it. 
> 
> Thank you again for the kudos and comments.

Darkness descends and the snow falls harder, huge flakes flooding the sky as visibility dissipates. Henry and I have closed the shutters downstairs, locking the house up tight before heading upstairs to the Ledbetter's master bedroom. A window seat allows us to look out onto the front of the property and a fireplace blazes warmth into the room. It's late and Skye is asleep on a mattress set near the fire while Laura dozes on the bed.

"I'll take the first watch if you want," Henry says as we sit side by side looking out at the snow blowing across the frozen farmland.

I nod and say, "I'll stay with you for a little bit."

I'm not tired and I really can't imagine sleeping much anyway at this point. I see Henry glance toward Skye's sleeping form and he asks softly, "They want her because of what she did to those guys?"

"Partly," I answer quietly. "They don't know about that yet but when they do, they'll never let her go."

"So they want her for something else?"

"Yes," I answer. "But really, the less you know, the better."

"You've already put Laura and me in danger. You might as well tell me." There is no malice in Henry's voice but when his eyes meet mine I know he won't take no for an answer. When I'm silent he adds, "It's Hydra, right? Who you're running from?"

As much as I've always excelled at maintaining a poker face I know shock is reflecting in my eyes as I stare at him uncomprehendingly.

"Your brother is Senator Christian Ward right? We saw his news conference awhile back."

I nod, worried now that my identity is catching up with me. "Your brother said you're Hydra. With what she can do I'm assuming you escaped with her instead of turning her in."

I shake my head. "Not exactly. I was working with Hydra... more precisely a man who was a Hydra double agent took me in at a young age. I thought I owed him everything. I was wrong."

He seems to accept what I am saying without question as he asks, "How does she fit into this."

My silence tells him that I'm unwilling to give up Skye's secrets. "You don't trust me."

"It's not that," I answer. "It's not my story to tell."

Henry seems to accept my answer and turns back toward the window. Snow is falling harder, obscuring the lower part of the window as it collects on the sill. From her bed on the floor I hear Skye make a noise as she rolls over in her sleep.

"Help," she whispers. "Mike... Quinn..."

I'm up immediately, heading to her side and kneeling next to her as I say, "Shhh... you're okay."

"It hurts," she mumbles and I know she is reliving the day she was shot. It is a recurring nightmare that she has had since we've escaped from D.C. and it adds to the guilt I feel over telling Garrett too much information about her. About Coulson and his team. 

Softly I caress her cheek and whisper, "It's just a dream."

"Grant," she says, her eyes still closed as one hand reaches for me, gripping my arm tightly.

I glance toward Henry and he says, "I'll wake you if anything happens."

Nodding, I slip out of my shoes and crawl into the mattress next to Skye. When she curls into me I wrap an arm around her and a few minutes later I hear the sound of her breathing slowing as she falls back to sleep. I close my eyes with no intention of actually falling asleep but I realize that I need to take advantage of this time in case someone does come looking for Skye.

***

A hand on my shoulder startles me awake and I sit up, every fiber of my being in specialist mode as my eyes land on Henry's.

"Sorry," he whispers quietly, his face shadowed by the slowly dying flames in the fireplace. "Nothing's happening out there. Do you mind taking over?"

"Sure," I tell him, placing the covers back over Skye's sleeping form. Henry stokes the fire before climbing into bed next to his wife and I take his place at the window seat. The cold seeps in around the frame as the snow continues to accumulate and I wonder how much is on the ground now. It's still dark out but there is a hint of dawn on the horizon and as I stare out the window I hear a creak on the floorboards behind me. I don't need to turn to know that it is Skye and when she settles on to the window seat beside me she wraps the quilt around the both of us.

"It's cold," she whispers, not wanting to wake the Ledbetter's.

"Come here," I say, opening my arms for her to snuggle against me. She is warm and as she pressed in close to me I press a kiss to her temple. "Are you feeling okay?"

She nods but I worry about the toll that killing these men has taken on her.

"It sure is pretty," Skye says as she stares out the window. She is quiet for a moment before she adds, "I found the city. Before Hydra came."

"We'll go as soon as the snow stops," I tell her. She nods and leans farther against me as we sit in silence waiting for the sun to rise. Slowly light chases the darkness away, black turning to purple and then a muted orange far off on the horizon . Snow drops deliberately onto the ground, the wind whipping it up and around as it drifts against the barns and silos, burying fence posts, and disguising the two lane road from view. 

We sit in silence, staring out the window, each lost in our thoughts until finally about an hour later movement from the bed catches our attention and Skye and I turn to see Laura pushing back the covers and reaching for her robe. "I'm going to make some breakfast." 

"I'll help," Skye answers. 

I follow the women downstairs and open the shutters in the kitchen before getting a fire going on the main floor. My gun is holstered for now but I am constantly at the window, checking for any signs of life. As the sun continues its ascent the snow tapers off and I know our time here is growing short. The smell of coffee brings Henry down the stairs and he settles a rifle near the table as he sits down, smiling as Skye brings him a steaming cup. 

"Thank you," he says and places a hand gently on top of hers. 

"The snow is stopping," I say as I settle in next to him. Skye brings coffee for me as well before heading back into the kitchen to grab plates and silverware. Laura brings eggs, bacon and toast and soon the four of us are eating. "We should get going as soon as we can shovel the car out of the garage." 

"Your car isn't going to make it down the road," Henry tells me, reaching for another strip of bacon. "The city won't plow out this far. You'll have to take my truck." 

"No," I argue. "You've already done too much. We can't take your truck." 

"If you want to get out of here anytime soon, you'll need something with more power than that four banger you have," Henry replies. "Do you even know where you are going?"

"Yes," Skye answers. 

"Don't tell me," he says. "The less I know the better. There's an airport and a bus station. If you take my truck to either of those places you can call me from the road and let me know where you left it."

We finish breakfast and as the girls clean up Henry and I head out and clear the driveway. Once we're done I load the stuff from our car into the truck and head back inside to get Skye. She has our bags packed and is dressed in warm layers, ready to go. When Laura sees me she hugs Skye quickly and I hear her whisper, "Be safe." 

"We will," Skye answers, turning to hug Henry as well. When she steps back her eyes are filled with tears and I know she feels bad about how we're leaving them. "I'm sorry about all of this." 

"Don't worry about it," Henry tells her, holding her close for a minute. "When you get out of trouble though, come back and visit us."

Skye nods and we hurry out to the truck, tossing our stuff in first before Skye hops up into the passenger seat. Around the truck I go and soon we are on the road, forcing the truck slowly through several feet of snow as we attempt to get back into town. We pass our little farmhouse and I see Skye looking at it, her eyes on the barn where two dead Hydra agents still lie as well as the buried car they came in. 

"You think the kittens are okay?" she asks, her voice filled with concern. 

"I'm sure they'll be fine," I tell her. "Henry will take care of them." 

The tires slip and slide on the road but eventually we get into town and finally I ask, "Where are we going." 

"Puerto Rico," Skye answers.

***


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has spoilers to _Ye Who Enter Here_ and _What They Become_ so if you haven't watched those episodes you may want to do that first. 
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos! I'm hoping to wrap this up in the next chapter.

The city has done a good job of keeping the streets plowed and with the salt underneath our tires the truck doesn't slip at all. We make it downtown and park Henry's truck in a nearby parking garage before trudging toward the bus station. The first bus leaving is headed to St. Louis so I purchase two tickets for us. Skye waits until the first announcement for us to board the bus before calling the Ledbetter's. She tells them where to find their vehicle and at the end of the call I hear her say, "We will. Thank you."

When she hangs up she glances my way and I see the sadness in her eyes. My arm automatically reaches for her, pulling her close as I say, "It's going to be okay."

"I know," she answers. We get in line to board the bus and take seats about three quarters of the way back so I can keep an eye on anyone getting on or off that might be suspicious. Skye takes the window seat and pulls her knit hat lower around her face, not wanting to be recognized by anyone who might be looking for her. When the driver finally closes the door and pulls away from the curb I hear Skye's sigh of relief. She stares out the window as the bus travels along the rural highway. We have six long hours ahead of us until we reach the St. Louis airport.

***

When we reach our destination Skye pulls her hat back on before reaching for her backpack as my eyes scan the crowd of people heading in and out of the airport. Hydra agents are easy to spot, standing near one of the entrances while another monitors the passengers disembarking from the bus. My hand goes to Skye's arm and I nod my head in their direction.

"We're not getting off," I tell her as her eyes meet mine in fear. "It's going to be okay."

Scanning the crowd of passengers waiting to board I see two Hydra agents standing in line. They are easy to miss if you don't know what you are looking for, but they aren't playing their part all that well. It is obvious that they are together even if they are working hard to ignore one another. They both eye every female exiting the bus and occasionally glance toward the other as if confirming that none of them are Skye.

"Tuck your hair under your hat," I say softly and she does, reaching into her backpack to pull out a hair band to tie it all together before tucking it under the knit hat she's wearing. As she does I reach into the bag at my feet and feel around for two weapons, handing one to her and keeping the other one for myself. Skye discreetly slips hers in her jacket pocket and I slide mine into my waistband as passengers begin to board the bus. A discarded magazine lays on the seat across from us and I reach for it, handing it to her before anyone notices. Skye opens it, keeping her head down as she slowly flips through the glossy pages, looking bored as we continue to wait. I adjust my knit cap carefully and stare out the window across from me, watching the reflections of the people as they board. The men are not even trying to be inconspicuous as they glance at each seated passenger and as they approach I feel their eyes on me but I don't acknowledge them at all. They pass us by and settle into seats behind us as the bus doors close and the driver pulls away from the curb. A glance toward Skye tells me she is still playing her part well, her eyes down as if she is intently reading the article in front of her. Past her I see the other Hydra operatives moving away from the airport entrance and I know for certain we've been made.

The bus heads away from the airport and into downtown St. Louis. This is the last stop for us and I worry that men in dark suits will be waiting for us there as well. I lean in toward Skye and say, "Be ready to go as soon as we stop."

She nods and closes the magazine before reaching down for her backpack and pulling it into her lap. The bus slows to a stop and as casually as possible I rise from my seat, our bags thrown over my shoulder. Skye is up in an instant and I pause to let her go ahead of me. I know these guys won't make a scene on the bus if we don't, but if we do innocent people are going to get hurt. Skye walks ahead of me but we are blocked by an older gentleman struggling to get his bag out of the overhead compartment.

"Let me help," I say kindly and motion the man back into his row as I reach up and drag his bag out for him. It is heavy but wheeled and as I lower it I place it behind me, effectively blocking the Hydra agents.

"Thank you," the man says and I nod, reaching for Skye's arm and hurrying her along. I glance back when we get to the stairs and see the men get further behind as the elderly man allows others out in front of him as well.

"One good deed," Skye whispers and I smile quickly as we go down the stairs and out into the brisk December afternoon. A hotel is straight ahead so we head there first and search out another exit before we can be found.

"This way," I say, pointing toward the parking garage. Together we hurry up the stairs and find one with fewer vehicles on it. No one is around so I walk up to one and glance inside but the door is locked. I check the one next to it, but no luck, and I start to worry that this has been a bad idea.

"This one's open," Skye says, motioning me to a nearby SUV.

"Get in," I tell her, tossing our bags on the seat while I quickly hot wire the car. Once it starts I shove the bags into the back and hop in, slamming the door and putting the vehicle in reverse at the same moment. "Duck down."

She does as I ask and as we come up to the attendant I hand over some cash, telling him that I lost my ticket. He nods, paying little attention as he gives me back my change and soon we are on the road again. I drive through downtown for a little bit, constantly checking the rear view mirror but I think we're okay as I finally direct the car toward the interstate.

"Do you want to call Coulson?" I ask and Skye nods, reaching in her backpack for one of the phones.

"It's me," she says into the phone when he answers. "Hydra found us at the farmhouse."

"Are you all right?" His voice is filled with concern for her and I imagine him sitting at his desk, his hands clasped together anxiously as he waits for her answer.

"Yeah," Skye answers. "I found the city."

Coulson is quiet for a moment and I wonder if there is someone in his office. Skye senses it too and asks, "Did you take care of your rat problem?"

"Not yet," Coulson replies and I'm a little worried that they haven't figured out who the undercover Hydra operative is yet. "Do you think that's how they found you at the farm?"

"It must be," Skye says. "We were under the radar until I sent you the file on the city."

"Where is the city?" Coulson asks.

"Puerto Rico," Skye answers.

"I think it's time to get the band back together," he says.

"Where do you want to meet?"

"Miami," he tells her. "You know the place."

"Copy that," Skye replies. "See you soon."

***

We drive all night, taking turns while the other naps in the passenger seat, only stopping for gas and food. It is early morning when we arrive at the hangar where the bus is parked but the cargo ramp is down and Coulson is waiting for us.

"No trouble?"

"No," I answer as we follow him inside. The team is waiting to be briefed and Simmons hugs Skye, happy to have her back again.

"Some introductions are probably necessary," Coulson says and calls out the new members of his group. "Bobbi Morse. Lance Hunter. Mack Mackenzie and Agent 33."

I nod to each of them as Coulson finishes up. "This is Grant Ward."

He pauses for a moment and says, "Okay people, this is what we know so far. Based on our latest intel, Hydra has the obelisk and someone who knows how to use it. Inside the obelisk is a weapon and Hydra needs to take it to a temple inside the alien city in order to unlock it. Skye, what have you learned?"

"The city is underground with most of the access points being under water. The only way for us to reach it is at the Castillo San Cristobal." Skye pulls up a photograph of the ancient fort on the monitor in front of us. "This is the Devil's Guerite, or La Guerita del Diablo. Spanish lore states that several soldiers disappeared from the fort at this site, but there are no facts to substantiate this and it remains legend at this time. The guerite is off limits to visitors so we need to find a way to access the shaft that lies within its walls so we can get inside the city." 

"What are we going to do once we get inside?" Bobbi Morse asks. "We don't have the obelisk." 

"We're going to blow up the city," Coulson answers. "We'll have to deal with the obelisk separately." 

"I have a contact in San Juan who might be able to help," she tells him. "He can get us the original plans for the Castillo and keep the local police away from us once we start poking around the guerite." 

"Call him," Coulson says.

***

Hours later we reconvene and Coulson has a plan. "Mack, May, Trip and I are going to place the bombs in the city while Fitz and Simmons monitor things at the top of the guerite. Morse and Hunter are off to check out what Hydra's doing at an abandoned theater called the Ponce de Leon. Skye and Ward, I want you both to stay on the bus with Agent 33."

"I can help," Skye complains. "Don't leave me behind." 

"Skye," Coulson steps close to her and only I can hear his words. "Hydra wants you for a reason. Let's not make it easy for them to grab you." 

She frowns but nods and walks away, heading for her bunk and closing the door. Coulson glances at me and then toward Agent 33. "Take care of her." 

"We will sir," Agent 33 assures him as I nod. She looks at me and says, "I'll make sure the cargo hold gets locked up tight." 

"Sounds good," I tell her and head toward Skye's bunk and knock once before pulling the door open slightly. "Care for some company?" 

"Sure," she answers and I slip through the door and settle on the bed beside her. 

"I know you want to be there," I tell her. "But you're safer here." 

"I know," she answers as she leans back against the bulk head. Finally she says, "This is going to be the longest wait ever." 

"Let's go find a board game," I say, wanting to distract her from her worry. 

She smiles despite herself and nods. "Okay." 

Leaving her bunk we settle into the comfortable leather chairs and set up a game of Battleship. "Best two out of three?" 

"Sure," Skye says as she sets up her ships. It doesn't take long for her to win the first game but I win the second and we are deep in the third when Agent 33 appears by our side. 

"I just heard from Morse and Hunter. Hydra's got a laser drill inside the hotel. They're going to take the drill out and have requested back up." 

"Let's go," Skye says, and she's up and out of her chair, hurrying after Agent 33. 

"Skye," I call after her, but she's intent on doing this so I follow her and gear up, grabbing weapons along the way.

***


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter and contains spoilers for _What They Become_ so if you haven't watched that episode you may want to do that first. There is some violence in this chapter. 
> 
> Thank you for all of the kudos and comments. They are very much appreciated!

When we get to the Ponce de Leon theater Agent 33 does recon and motions us forward. Quietly we enter through the door, guns drawn, ready for anything. The entrance is surprisingly unguarded which puts me more on edge than normal as I whisper, "Where did they say to meet them?"

"Just here," Agent 33 replies. "I thought they would be out front." 

"I don't like this," I say as we wander farther into the building. 

From where we are we hear a commotion coming from above us so Agent 33 heads quietly up the stairs, Skye following behind her while I bring up the rear. My senses are on overload at this point and I feel it deep within my bones that something is not right as I reach for Skye's arm, holding her back. 

"What is it?" she whispers as Agent 33 rounds the bend. Gun fire goes off and we hear Agent 33's call for help which sends Skye rushing up the stairs right into the midst of several Hydra operatives. Agent 33 is on the ground, her arm bleeding as one of the Hydra agents has a gun pointed at her head. The rest have quickly surrounded us, guns trained mostly on Skye, knowing that I won't make a move that will risk her life. A distinguished gentleman walks into the room, his gray hair combed away from his face, round glasses perched on his nose. He is impeccably dressed in a suit and tie and I recognize Daniel Whitehall right away.

"Agent Ward," he says, walking forward with all the confidence in the world as he extends a hand. "Thank you so much for delivering Skye to us. All the information you've provided us about the obelisk and the alien city have proven very useful."

"What?!" I ask, glancing from him to Skye whose face is a myriad of emotion. Shock, anger and betrayal all cross her face in an instant and I shake my head no as I ignore him and stare straight at her. "It's not true Skye."

"Of course it is," Whitehall says, his voice thick with conviction. "All of my Hydra agents are happy to comply."

"Don't listen to him Skye!" I make a move toward her and all the weapons point toward me. Her eyes won't meet mine but I see the tears glistening in the corners, threatening to plunge down her cheeks as she believes I've betrayed her. I plead one last time. "Skye, please don't listen to him. I promised you I would never lie to you and I haven't."

"A lie by omission is still a lie," Whitehall says, cementing his assertion that I am working with him. Every fiber in my being aches to rip his tongue out, snap his neck, strangle him. Anything to shut him up and keep him from hurting her any more. He motions for his guards to bring a case and when he opens it I see the device that Coulson calls the obelisk. I've heard what it can do and I'm worried now.

"I'd like you to pick it up," he tells Skye.

Her eyes meet mine in fear but then the mask drops down and she retorts, "You first."

"Your friends are already trying to enter the city," Whitehall answers, a smile crossing his features. "I have assassins waiting for word from me and they will all be dead. Is that what you want?"

Skye frowns and reaches out her hand slowly toward the obelisk. Her fingers touch the smooth metal hesitatingly and it begins to glow as alien writing appears on the surface. Her eyes widen as she realizes it isn't going to kill her and Whitehall smiles knowingly.

"Now I know why he wanted you," he says. "You can put it back now."

Skye seems to consider it for a moment before placing the obelisk back in its case. The agent closes the lid and leaves the room with it before Whitehall says, "I should have realized you were his daughter. You look like your mother you know."

"No. I don't know," Skye snaps back at him.

"Of course you don't," he adds, his voice taking on a sympathetic tone. "That is because I killed her."

I watch as Skye's eyes harden, glaring angrily at him. 

"She was special, you know? She didn't age. I had to find out why. Discovery requires experimentation. What do you think I'm going to find when I experiment on you?"

Whitehall motions for his men to take her away but as they approach I feel the sting of static electricity. See the tiny crack emerging along the wall. She struggles against hands gripped around her arms and tries to fight them off until Agent 33 pulls out an ICER and shoots her with it. Skye immediately crumples to the ground, her head landing on the wooden floor with a sickening thud. I turn toward Agent 33, realizing who the real traitor is, but I can't dodge the bullets from the ICER and I feel my legs slipping out from under me as I lose consciousness as well.

***

My head is throbbing, my side aching from where the ICER made contact with my skin and I groan slightly as I try to sit up. Glancing around the room I am startled to find that I am not alone. An older gentleman with unruly dark brown hair and wild eyes stares at me warily from across the room. His brown blazer is rumpled as are his slacks but there is something familiar about his facial features and I know instantly who he is.

"You're Skye's father," I say to him. 

"That is not her name," he replies, his voice dripping with barely concealed rage. 

I nod. Of course not. Skye gave herself that name years ago and I know that even the one the orphanage gave her was not her real name. I get up and cross the room toward the door, pulling on the handle but finding that we are locked in. "Whatever her name is, she's in trouble and I need your help if you want to save her from Whitehall." 

"He has her?" Worry and resentment are reflected in his eyes as he glares at me. "Where?" 

"I don't know," I tell him, pulling harder on the door. "But if you don't want what happened to her mother to happen to her, we need to get out of here." 

Skye's father is up in an instant and when he reaches for the handle, he pulls hard, ripping the brass from the wood, effectively shattering the lock. He glances my way and says, "Let's go." 

Stealthily we make our way down the hall and Skye's father dispatches the occasional guard we find with a quick snap of their necks. As we get closer to one of the other rooms we hear Skye's cries for help and as we hurry forward we run into Bobbi Morse and Lance Hunter.

"What are you doing here?" Morse asks as she glances from Skye's father to me, trying to figure out what is going on.

"Agent 33 is working with Hydra. She lured us here to give Skye to Whitehall." 

At that moment Hydra agents start coming around the corner and Hunter and Morse fire in unison as she says, "Get Skye. We'll hold them off." 

Skye's father kicks the door in and we find her writhing on the floor, a small green device pressed into her neck as Whitehall holds something in his hand. He seems to be enjoying torturing her and doesn't see the fury that is Skye's father as he rushes toward him, knocking him down and sending the gadget in his hand flying across the room. Skye stops moving then as her father begins to pound his fists into Whitehall's face I hurry toward her, yanking the device from her neck and pulling her up into my arms. 

"Are you okay?" I ask, brushing her hair away from her face. 

She nods but then looks at me and starts to push me away, betrayal etching her face. 

"Skye," I say. "It wasn't me. Agent 33 set us up."

She looks into my eyes and I can tell she is trying to decide if I am telling her the truth or not. My hand touches her cheek, my thumb slipping under her chin as I say once more, "It wasn't me." 

Finally she nods and wraps her arm around me, hugging me close. Behind her I hear the sickening crunch of bone crushing into nothing and see her father's death blow as his fist plows into Whitehall's face one final time. Skye flinches underneath me, turning to see what is happening, but I stop her and say, "Don't look." 

Morse and Hunter burst through the door and I hear her say, "There's too many of them." 

Hydra guards are following them inside and I reach for the weapon of one of the fallen soldiers, pushing Skye back as I say, "Find some place to hide." 

I'm up in an instant, firing shots as they pour through the door, one after another. They fall in line, each bullet hitting its mark until finally there are no more. Morse, Hunter and I nod at each other and I turn to find Skye but she is no longer in the room. Neither is her father and I see the obelisk case is missing as well. 

"Skye!" I yell, no longer worried about anyone hearing me. With Whitehall and most of his soldiers dead I assume the rest will disperse as well. I see the door I never noticed before and it is open, leading to a back hall and a set of stairs that lead down. Morse and Hunter follow along behind me until we get to the basement. From there we see the hole in the floor, created by the laser drill that now sits silent beside it. 

I hear Skye's father's voice echoing from inside the chamber. "It's okay Daisy. This is what is supposed to happen." 

"Call Coulson," I say to Morse. "Tell him Skye's father has taken her into the city. He needs to make sure those bombs don't go off." 

She nods as I reach for the rope and start to lower myself down. It's a long way to the bottom and I wonder what he's said to convince Skye to go with him but as I finally reach the ground I can still hear him talking to her. He is telling her about what Whitehall did to her mother. How S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra aren't her family. That he'll spare Coulson's life if she comes along willingly and now I understand. She obviously saw what he did to Whitehall and she's afraid her father will kill Coulson too.

"Don't be afraid Daisy," he says again. "Your mother went through this same thing. You'll experience a small transformation and then you'll be the person you're supposed to be." 

"I'm already who I'm supposed to be," Skye complains and I hurry through the corridors, careful not to touch anything. "Just let me go." 

I round a corner and see him holding the case with the obelisk inside, his other hand tightly around Skye's arm just above her elbow. Skye attempts to pull away from him but his grip is firm and in the dim light I see her wince in pain as she turns back toward me. 

"Grant!' she calls out as she sees me but her father keeps pulling her forward. 

"Skye!" I race down the hallway but when he turns the corner I hear the distinct sound of stone sliding against stone. The wall is moving, shutting her inside and I sprint ahead calling her name again as it closes around her, sealing Skye inside. 

A noise from behind startles me and I turn to see Coulson. "He has her. Her father took her inside." 

"Does he have the obelisk?" Coulson runs his hands along the walls as if looking for something to trigger it open. 

"Yes," I tell him. 

Coulson pounds on the stone. "Skye? Can you hear me?" 

"Coulson!" I hear her voice from inside. "You need to get out of here!" 

He turns to me, his eyes filled with concern. A humming noise emanates from inside the wall and then Skye yells, "No! Help me! Dad!" 

Silence envelopes the underground city and Coulson looks at me, anxious to find a way in to save Skye. He paces as I pound on the wall. "Skye? Talk to me! Are you okay?" 

"She's okay," her father calls from inside. "She's going through her transformation."

"What the hell does that mean?" Coulson asks and I shrug. 

"Let us in," I call out, hoping to reason with him. 

"The temple will open when her transformation is complete," Skye's father says and I pound the wall once more in frustration. We wait in silence, Coulson sliding down to sit against the wall as I take up the pacing, waiting anxiously for Skye to reappear. Suddenly the ground begins to shake, dust and small pebbles of dirt dropping down on us as the earth shudders and groans all around us. 

"Earthquake," Coulson says, getting to his feet. "Do you think the obelisk is doing this?" 

"Possibly," I answer but my thoughts turn to Skye and the different things she could do before her father dragged her into the temple. The cracks in the glass and in the wall. The static electricity. Somehow I know that she is doing this and I worry about her even more. As quickly as the earthquake started it stops and suddenly the temple walls begin to gradually slide apart. Inside the obelisk is sitting on a stone podium, dirt all around, as Skye stands to the left of it, her eyes wide with fear. Her father is lying on the ground, a large gash in his head, but he's breathing and awake. 

"See," he says as he pushes the rubble away from himself, standing slowly and wincing. "I told you it would be okay." 

"Stay away from me," Skye says, her voice enraged. "Don't ever come near me again." 

As she starts to walk away from him he calls out to her, "Daisy! You know I did this for you. It's what you were meant to become." 

Her eyes meet mine and she whispers, "Get me out of here." 

I nod, wrapping my arm around her as Skye leans in to me, her body shaking fiercely. Coulson leads us back to the rope and we send Skye up first, then Coulson and finally me. When we get to the top Jemma has her arm around Skye and together we climb out of the guerite and back out into the late afternoon sun. It is bright and we have to cover our eyes as we make our way to the waiting vehicles. It doesn't take long until we are back on the bus and May has us heading back to the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. Skye disappears to take a shower, wanting to wash all the dirt and grime off of her. 

"So Agent 33 was the mole?" Coulson asks, sitting beside me. 

"Yes," I tell him as he pours more bourbon into my glass and then some into another for himself. It's been a long day but we're grateful that it ended without any of our team getting hurt. "Whitehall's dead. Skye's father killed him." 

"Good," Coulson replies. He glances up as Skye passes. She doesn't look at either of us and when she gets to her bunk she closes the door softly. "Do you think she'll be okay?" 

"It's been a rough day," I answer. "But I think she'll be fine. She's a fighter." 

He nods and silence envelopes us for several minutes before he finally says, "Thanks for keeping her safe."

"What are you going to do with me now?" I ask, positive that he's going to lock me up again. 

Coulson frowns and seems to consider the question for a moment before he finally says, "Everyone deserves a second chance, Ward, and you've earned yours with what you've done for Skye. Understand though, that there won't be a third." 

"Thank you," I reply genuinely grateful that after everything we've been through he's going to let me stay. Not as a prisoner, but as a full-fledged member of his team. "I won't let you down." 

He nods once, draining his glass before he says, "Well I've got work to do still." 

I watch as he walks away before setting my glass down and heading to Skye's bunk, knocking softly. 

"Come in," she says quietly. 

"Hey," I say as I see her settled on her bunk, her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs. "Are you okay?" 

She nods but I see the fear in her eyes. That worry that she will look into my face and see that I think she is a monster. I smile in reassurance and slip onto the bunk beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She leans in close, resting her head against me as she says, "It was awful. I... I don't know what it did to me." 

"I'm so sorry," I tell her, pressing my lips to her temple. "Whatever it did we'll get through it together." 

I know she doesn't want to talk about it right now so I change the subject and say, "Coulson's letting me stay on. I'm a member of the team again." 

"Good," Skye replies, turning her head to look at me. When our eyes meet I lower my lips to hers kissing her softly, letting her know how much I love her. Whatever happens next we'll face it together and as long as Skye is by my side I know that we will both be okay.

The end


End file.
